Fill My Jar
by myshipsank
Summary: Rachel is back in Lima for Finn's wedding. She refuses to go to the bachelorette party for Finn's fiancée, but Puck convinces her to go to a different strip club in honor of the event. While there, she runs into Quinn.
1. Chapter 1

When Rachel got the letter inviting her to Finn's wedding, she had broken down into tears. She ran her thumb over the engraved lettering on the front of the card, trying to cement in her mind that this was reality. She took a deep breath and opened the card, reading the date- about a month from then- and the name of the woman. Rachel wondered to herself what Addy Bryant was like. Was she pretty? Did she sing duets with Finn?

Within the next hour, her doorbell was ringing, but she didn't bother to get up to answer it. She couldn't be bothered, because, dammit, she was having an emotional breakdown and the door was really not that important.

Apparently the person on the other side disagreed because she heard the door opening anyway. She briefly scolded herself for not locking the door, but those thoughts were lost when she saw who had walked into her apartment.

"I almost wish I hadn't let Michael talk me out of bribing the mailman to not deliver to your house today," Kurt said, immediately sitting down next to Rachel, who had moved to the couch in the hour since receiving her invitation.

Rachel had no response to what Kurt had said, but she allowed him to pull her toward him into a sitting sideways hug. She tried to reign in her crying, but Kurt whispered in her ear that she didn't have to go, and she just cried all the harder.

Ever since they'd both gotten into NYADA, the two of them had grown closer. They had a lot of classes together and would always study together and help each other prepare for auditions. When Rachel had gotten her first role in an off-Broadway show, Kurt had been the first person she'd called after her fathers. Kurt was her best friend and had been there for her in her junior year of college when Finn broke it off with her, even though Finn was his brother. He'd sided with Rachel, which had upset Finn, but it was something Rachel was eternally grateful for.

After twenty more minutes of tears and soft reassurances and tissues, Rachel finally stopped crying enough for actual conversation to ensue.

"So you knew," Rachel said. It wasn't a question. It made sense that Kurt would know- Finn was his brother, after all. Kurt nodded regretfully.

"I thought of a million ways of how to tell you, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it," Kurt sighed.

Rachel wiped her nose again with a tissue in her hand. "I don't even know why I'm so upset. It's been three years since he broke things off. I just…" she trailed off. Kurt ran his hand up and down her arm affectionately.

"You're just in shock. You didn't even know he had someone serious in his life. Plus, you imagined yourself in her shoes for so long that this must seem like some sort of alternate universe," Kurt filled in for her gently. Now it was Rachel's turn to nod.

The rest of the days was spent watching old movies and eating ice cream, because Kurt insisted that was the only way to deal with heartache.

Finally, when it was starting to get late, Rachel insisted that Kurt should leave and get back to his boyfriend. Kurt adamantly declined, informing her that he'd told Michael that he would be staying over weeks ago when this day came. The two of them got ready for sleep, Kurt propping himself up on her sofa.

"Thanks for coming," Rachel murmured before heading to her room.

"Of course, sweetie," Kurt replied with a smile. "The moment I opened the mail I was on my way here."

Rachel stood in front of the sofa, teetering back and forth for a moment. Kurt tilted his head. "You're thinking about something," he observed.

"I'm thinking… that I want to go to the wedding," Rachel admitted. Kurt's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open before he collected himself and cleared his throat.

"Uh, sweetie, I'm not really sure that's the best idea," Kurt responded tentatively.

"No, I'm going. I need closure, and seeing him get married is the only way that I am going to get it. Plus, it will give me a chance to catch up with the rest of the Glee club. I haven't seen some of them in ages," Rachel said with more confidence.

Kurt bit his bottom lip, probably to keep himself from protesting. "Okay, but you have a month to change your mind if you want to," Kurt acquiesced after a short pause.

"Thank you. You're the best friend ever, you know that?" she said, a smile taking over her face for the first time since opening that fateful letter.

Kurt beamed back at her and pulled her in for a goodnight hug. "Duh," he agreed.

* * *

A month later, Rachel was getting off a plane with Kurt and Michael at her side in Ohio. The three of them were renting a car and making a long weekend out of the trip. The wedding was set for Saturday and it was currently Thursday afternoon, so they would be able to do some catching up before the actual wedding ceremony.

Kurt and Michael dropped Rachel off at her dads' house, promising to see her later. Rachel knocked on the door, which was immediately thrown open to reveal both of her fathers. Hiram embraced her in a tight hug first, without a single word, but was soon pulled back so Leroy could get his chance.

Once both of her fathers had enough of hugging, they stepped back. "We missed you, baby girl," her daddy said with a smile.

From there on, she caught the two up on her life in New York and the plane ride to Ohio. They, in turn, told her about little bits of news they'd picked up on about people Rachel remembered from Lima. As much as Rachel enjoyed playing catch-up with her dads, she really wanted some time alone, so she entered her old room before long.

It was just how she'd left it the last time, which wasn't much different than when she'd left it the summer before her freshman year of college. The only differences were most of the clothes in the closet were a little toned down from the animal sweaters and argyle.

Rachel collapsed face first into her bed, relishing in the comfort it provided, both literally and emotionally. It was familiar and safe, a reminder of when times had been fairly simple. Yes, high school had bee difficult, but much of it was actually fairly routine. She got up, did her workout, went to school, tried to avoid getting slushied, did her schoolwork, sang in Glee, and came home. She was the best singer at McKinley, and she knew it. Now, she was just one of many talented people all competing to get on Broadway. She no longer was a shoe-in for every solo, no longer felt on top of the world.

And she no longer had that perfect leading man to help her along the way. Well, okay, she'd be the first to admit that Finn wasn't exactly perfect, but he was the closest thing to it she'd ever had. Except maybe Kurt. But Kurt was her gay friend, not her boyfriend. There was a difference, as Kurt would often painfully point out to her. In fact, he would always be trying to get Rachel to go on dates with guys ever since a couple months after Finn broke up with her. She'd refused so many times that he even tried offering up blind dates- with men and women- but she rarely went. Kurt was convinced for a while that she was secretly repressing her gay side and that was why she hated all the dates with men, but after she tried to appease him and go on a few with some women and those failed just as much, he started to give up. His most recent theory was that she was becoming an asexual workaholic. Which was sort of true.

All that thinking of Finn and Kurt made Rachel roll over onto her back and pull her phone out of her pocket, which she still had on silent from the plane ride. When she examined it, she realized that she'd missed three texts, all from Kurt.

**911, bachelor party invite from Finn! It's tomorrow night, and apparently Puck planned it. –Kurt**

She smirked at the text and shook her head. Kurt would probably die at a bachelor party, especially if Puck was the best man in charge of it. Puck's parties always involved alcohol, a loss of clothing, and mayhem, even back in high school. Apparently, not much had changed there, since that description sounded pretty much like an adequate bachelor party.

Rachel scrolled to the next message.

**Actually, we're going to the bachelorette party. Ignore my previous 911. –Kurt**

Bachelorette party? And Kurt had said we. Did that mean him and Michael, or was he implying that she was invited as well? Honestly, just about the last thing Rachel felt like doing on a Friday night before Finn's wedding was spend it around alcohol, probably male strippers, and Finn's fiancée.

**Rachel? Are you there? –Kurt**

Rachel let out a sigh. She would have to get back to Kurt soon before he started blowing up her phone with text messages and voicemails. She knew this from experience.

So, she typed a reply.

**Yeah, sorry, my phone was still off from the plane. Am I invited to this bachelorette party too? Because I really don't want to go if I am. –Rachel**

She pressed send and waited for Kurt's reply. Predictably, within a minute, she got one.

**Of course you are! All the girls are. Well, all of the ones under forty, according to Finn, although apparently Puck protested this, saying some older women were hot, but Finn pointed out that Puck's not allowed in the bachelorette party anyway. You should call Puck. He's the one who set this all up. –Kurt**

Rachel rolled her eyes at the text. Of course this was all Puck's fault. But really, she should call Puck. The two of them had sort of lost touch a little after college, but they had been fairly close while Rachel was at NYADA. They had Skyped each other frequently and talked on the phone sometimes. She'd learned that Puck's pool cleaning business had actually taken off, so he was making a real living off of it. After she'd graduated, however, Rachel had lost touch with almost everyone but Kurt from high school. It wasn't like she'd done it on purpose, but she'd just thrown herself into her work and left her personal life behind.

Picking up the phone, Rachel scrolled through her contacts and pressed send when she got to Puck's name, hoping that he still had the same cell number.

"_Hello?_" Puck answered. Rachel smiled just at his voice.

"Hey, Puck. It's Rachel," she responded.

"_Hey! My hot Jew! How's it hanging?_" Puck replied with enthusiasm. Rachel shook her head. There was the Puck she knew.

"Fine. I'm back in Lima, for the wedding, you know. And I was informed that you were in charge of the pre-wedding festivities, which was an excellent choice on Finn's party when taking into account your considerable experience when it comes to alcoholic endeavors and generally wreaking havoc, which I understand is a prerequisite for the responsibilities presented as being the best man," Rachel said.

Puck laughed on his end of the phone. "_You haven't changed at all, have you_?" he chuckled. Rachel huffed at that, but didn't get a chance to defend her way of speaking. "_Listen, I think you might have already heard from Kurt, but you're invited to the bachelorette party. I know you're probably thinking you don't really wanna go, but I wanted to tell you that Tina and Mercedes will be there too_._ Actually, I think Brittany and maybe Santana will be going too, but I'm not sure._"

Rachel thought about that. "As much as I appreciate the invitation, I really will have to decline. My fathers are thrilled at the chance to spend time with me before the wedding, and I will be spending Friday night with them instead of attending a party with mostly people that I have never met and others that I haven't spoken to in years," she replied.

It wasn't that she didn't want to see Tina and Mercedes. In fact, she was quite looking forward to seeing them, but she would still get an opportunity to do so at the wedding and the reception, she was sure. She would rather not have to spend any extra time around Finn's fiancée, who she couldn't even think of by name. She disliked her on principle.

As for Brittany and Santana, that held no draw to her at all. She was honestly a little frightened of the Latina, and though Brittany had always seemed nice, she had never been particularly close to the blonde cheerleader in high school.

"_Bullshit_," Puck called her out. Rachel let out a sound of indignation.

"I'll have you know that my fathers are truly excited to see me and I-" Rachel was cut off.

"_I'm not saying that part's not true, but that's not why you're not going to the party. You don't wanna go because Addy's gonna be there and you're pissed at Finn for marrying her_," Puck corrected. Rachel opened her mouth to deny it, but found she couldn't. It was true, as much as she wanted to be more mature than that. Puck seemed to take her silence for agreement, because he continued. "_Look, I'm not letting you mope around the night before the wedding, so I'll leave the bachelor party and the two of us can go out to a different bar_."

"That's nice of you to offer, Noah, but I will be perfectly fine at home," Rachel declined. She used his first name in the hopes that he would realize that she was being serious.

"_Nope, not an option. Either you go to the bachelorette party or we go to our own little party outside of Lima_," Puck gave her an ultimatum. Rachel chewed on her lip, trying to think it through. There was no way she was going to the party. She had never even considered that as a viable possibility. So, she supposed a couple of hours out with Puck wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"Fine, I'll go with you. When do you want to do this?" Rachel gave in. She imagined Puck smirking on the other side of the phone.

"_The bachelor party starts at seven, and I should really be there for a little while, so I'll pick you up at ten_?" Puck suggested.

"Ten? That's kind of late, isn't it?" Rachel replied. Then again, this was Noah Puckerman she was talking to.

"_Not at all, Princess. In fact, I'll probably go back to the other party when we're done. I'll see you tomorrow, alright? Oh, and there's one other thing I forgot to mention,_" Puck's voice changed in his last sentence, sounding a little dubious.

"Oh god, what?" Rachel groaned.

"_It is a bachelor party night, so once the party starts, I am _not _going anywhere without strippers for the rest of the night_," Puck responded with a devious tone.

Rachel groaned audibly. "Fine, whatever. A strip club it is."

"_I knew you'd see it my way_." She could hear the grin in his voice. "_Later, Jew_."

"Bye." And with the clicking sound of Puck hanging up, Rachel felt as though she'd somehow sealed her fate.

* * *

By the time ten o'clock on Friday came rolling around, Rachel was seriously regretting agreeing to Puck's insane little plan. She was imagining what was currently going on at the simultaneous bachelor and bachelorette parties. She also had the stray thought that Puck had better not be getting too drunk at the party. If he got into a car crash because he was drinking too much, she'd kill him. And if he did show up to her house drunk, she was definitely driving the two of them to the strip club.

She had texted Kurt about her plans with Puck soon after she'd talked to him, and Kurt was simultaneously disappointed and excited. He was disappointed because it meant she wouldn't be with him at the bachelorette party, but he was excited at the prospect of Rachel actually getting out of the house still, and with Noah Puckerman no less. Kurt had teased her that she was probably going to end up in worse shape than any of them because Puck would be her chaperone.

When she heard a knock on the door, she opened it to reveal Puck standing there with a huge and slightly guilty grin on his face.

"You've been drinking," Rachel stated the obvious. She could smell it on him- was that vodka?

"Duh," he drawled. "C'mon, we've gott'n after party to get ta." He reached out and slung his arm over her shoulders, leading her to his car. Puck attempted to get in the driver's seat, but Rachel promptly stole his keys and demanded that he get in the other side.

Rachel followed Puck's directions- she was thankful that he was not too inebriated that he had them ending in another state or something- and soon enough found herself parking outside of a strip club.

"Let's go," Puck said with some excitement. The two of them entered the club and Puck showed Rachel to his favorite spot at most strip clubs, though he'd never actually been to this one before- a table situated between the bar and the raised platform where the strippers were performing. Puck went to grab the two of them some drinks while Rachel sat down and watched the strippers.

She'd never really understood the fascination with pole dancing. How was a pole considered sexy? The women, wearing very little clothing and slowly losing more, on the other hand, were quite attractive, but the pole did nothing to increase the appeal to her. Currently, the girl closest to the table Rachel was sitting at was spinning around the pole in a position that, the diva had to admit, looked as though it took some serious acrobatic skill. She couldn't see the girl's face since it was covered in her shoulder-length brown hair.

Puck came back with two drinks, not bothering to explain what was in them. Rachel pressed him for details, but he just replied, "You don't need to know. What you do need is to get shit-faced."

Rachel couldn't deny that she had a strong desire to lose herself a little by getting drunk. She downed the drink fairly quickly.

"I do have to admit, I have never been to a strip club besides the time when we were retrieving Sam, and those were male strippers. Watching females strippers is quite different than that, and I am not altogether opposed to the idea," Rachel commented, now starting her third drink.

Puck just chuckled. "So you're saying the chicks are hot?"

Rachel scrunched up her face. Was that what she was saying? She enjoyed watching the women displaying their obvious skills and the extra amount of skin on display was not disagreeable in the least.

"I'm gonna go get a refill," Puck informed her. Rachel nodded absently, watching as the brunette in front of their table got off the stage and a new girl took the stage. When the new one, a blonde, took to the pole, Puck was already gone.

Rachel scrutinized the new stripper, appreciating her form. She had to have very strong leg muscles to pull off that move. Rachel almost moved closer to the stage, wanting to get a better look at the blonde with the short and choppy hair. She looked almost… familiar.

And that's when Rachel's jaw dropped open.

"Quinn?"

* * *

**A/N: I know, I know, if any of you have read my other things, you probably know that I'm working on literally a million things. Including an essay that's due in a week for college (that I haven't started). Ha... ha...**

**Anyway, I've, again, disregarded all of my other things and started yet another new project. And I know that many Faberry stories have probably started out much like this and all, but this is my spin of things. I like Faberry. It makes me happy. Ergo, I write it.**

**Please drop a review, it only takes a second. And it makes me smile.**


	2. Chapter 2

Quinn looked up upon hearing her voice to lock eyes with none other than Rachel Berry. Her eyes widened and she momentarily stopped her movements around the pole, frozen to the spot. Rachel watched as her eyes flicked away to catch someone else's, an older man at a table corner. Rachel watched as Quinn got off the stage and the older guy yelled for a different stripper to get up on the stage in Quinn's place.

Rachel jumped up from her seat and followed as Quinn made her way to exit the bar. Puck still wasn't back yet, but hopefully he wouldn't freak out too badly when he came back to an empty table.

Rachel's mind was racing. How in the hell had this happened? Why was Quinn a stripper, still in Lima? Last she had heard, Quinn had been set to go off to Yale for their drama department.

Quinn was running now, trying to get away from Rachel. "Quinn! Wait!" Rachel yelled out. The blonde did not stop, but she did slow down enough that Rachel could catch up to her by the time they made it out the back door. Once outside, Rachel looked around for Quinn only to be slammed against the brick wall of the club by none other than the blonde she was looking for.

"What the hell, Berry?" Quinn growled. Rachel took in a sharp breath at the sensation of being caught suddenly against a wall.

"I-I…" Rachel stuttered. She swallowed and got her thoughts as together as she possibly could. Quinn looked like a cornered animal, which was ironic considering the fact that Quinn was the one pinning Rachel to a wall, not the other way around. "What are you doing here?" she finally asked.

Quinn's eyes narrowed. "And here I thought the outfit gave it away," she said back snarkily.

"But… you were going to college," Rachel spluttered. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"God, do I have to explain the obvious again? I'm clearly not there anymore, though I would have graduated two years ago anyway," Quinn replied, exasperated.

"Well, yes, I suppose that's true. Wait, are you saying you didn't graduate?" Rachel said.

"Berry, if I had graduated from Yale, do you really think that I'd be working as a stripper?" Quinn asked rhetorically.

"I suppose not," Rachel murmured. "I'm so sorry," she added quietly. At that point, Quinn backed up and averted her eyes, allowing Rachel to remove herself from the brick wall.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. I know you're going to ask what happened, but I really don't want to get into it. Let's just say that at least I have a job, even though I no longer have the perfect life of the head cheerleader with the perfect boyfriend," Quinn sighed. Her voice was strained, like she was trying to keep sounding angry, but failing.

Her statement angered Rachel. Actually, the whole thing angered her. Quinn had a rough time in high school, that much was obvious, but in her senior year, things had really started turning around. She'd even gotten into Yale. And her mentioning that she no longer had a perfect boyfriend? Well, that irked Rachel, because she was in the same boat there.

"You know, there were at least three guys there at a bachelor party, tonight, in Lima, that we both know. And do you know what they all have in common?" Rachel spat.

"They were attractive football players at our high school?" Quinn guessed with a raised eyebrow. Well, she was right with that guess. Finn, Puck, and Sam had all played football at McKinley.

"No. They all gave you their hearts, and you threw them right back," Rachel corrected the blonde. She didn't know why she was so angry at Quinn. Maybe it was because of the way she was talking. Maybe it was because she threw away a great life to be a stripper. Maybe it was because despite every time Rachel told Quinn that she could do something with her life, the other girl basically laughed it off.

"I get that you might not understand what it's like to have more than one guy in love with you. But that's just the way it's been for me. And, look around you, it still is that way. Half a dozen guys are in love with me each night now," Quinn said nonchalantly, not affected by Rachel's angry words.

"First of all, I don't like what you're insinuating about me not understanding what it's like for a man to be in love with me. Second of all, those men back there aren't in love with you- they just like your body. That's not love," Rachel seethed. Why couldn't Quinn see her point?

"Yeah? Well what more do I have to offer?" Quinn fired back, but without any heat. Rachel wanted to beat her own head against the wall. It always went back to that, didn't it? Quinn thought that she was just a pretty face.

There was silence for a moment. "I've told you before, Quinn, you're a very pretty girl. The prettiest girl I've ever met. But you're a lot more than that," Rachel said, her anger subsiding.

"You never did tell me what that mysterious "more" was," Quinn sighed. She wasn't meeting Rachel's eyes, instead looking down at the ground. Rachel tried to catch what she was looking at, but she was distracted by some glitter on the girl's right thigh.

"I never thought I had to," Rachel whispered. It made her sad that the girl didn't even know what all she had going for.

"And I never thought I'd need any more than my looks. It turns out I didn't. I bet I make more than half of the people at that stupid bachelorette party for Finn's idiot bride-to-be make," Quinn argued. She was now looking at a part of the wall just over Rachel's shoulder. That confirmed something that Rachel had been wondering- Quinn did know that Finn was getting married. Did she receive an invitation? It would make sense if she had considering Finn had even invited Rachel even though the two of them hadn't exactly talked since they broke up.

"And _I_ bet you're half as happy," Rachel shot back.

Another moment of silence. "Well, it's been great talking with you, but next time you want this much alone time, I suggest you bring a few extra bills with you," Quinn said in a tone that indicated finality.

With that, Quinn stalked off to what Rachel assumed was the other woman's car. Rachel, ever persistent, followed her.

"Is that seriously the only way that I'll be able to talk to you again? If I order a lap dance?" Rachel asked, incredulous. So sure, maybe the two of them hadn't exactly gotten on well in high school, and sure, maybe they hadn't actually spoken to one another in six years, but to be told that the only way she could talk to Quinn again was if she paid for it stung.

Quinn got in her car but left the door open, looking up at the brunette. "My life's not a charity case, okay? I don't want you thinking that you need to step in and fix me. I'm not depressed, I'm not throwing my life away, and I'm not your newest project, or whatever else you were thinking about me, okay?"

Rachel opened her mouth, but then closed it, realizing that what Quinn accused her of thinking was fairly accurate. She was being judgmental within ten minutes of conversation, and Quinn didn't really want to hear it.

Quinn, apparently tired of waiting for a response, shut her car door and set her car in reverse, pulling out of her parking spot and away from the strip club.

For the next thirty seconds, Rachel just stood there, trying to comprehend what had just happened. She started walking back into the strip club in a daze. She'd just seen Quinn after six years, only to learn that the girl had not made a life for herself in any of the careers Rachel had imagined for her- perhaps an actor, or a writer, or even a lawyer- but instead working a strip joint. Her mind was right back in high school- only using her physical appearance instead of her obvious intellect.

When she made her way back to the table, Puck was looking up at her anxiously. "Yo, what the hell? I brought back drinks, like, twenty minutes ago. Where were you?" he asked.

Rachel sat down and gazed at the drink in front of her. She still didn't know what was in them, but this time she didn't care enough to ask. She felt more like going along with Puck's plan of getting absolutely plastered. So, to begin executing that plan, she tipped her head back and chugged half of the drink.

"Damn," Puck murmured. "It's good to see a girl who's not afraid to get her drink on, but seriously, what's up? I mean, I know seeing Finn get married has gotta be hard for you, but you're worse than before." Rachel tossed him a look before choosing to focus on something else. Like the fact that the new blonde who had currently taken the pole closet to them was an obvious bottle blonde and her body did not move nearly as fluidly as Quinn's.

Puck couldn't keep his curiosity to himself for long. "Come on. Like I said, I like that you're getting your drink on, but could you just tell me what the hell happened?"

Rachel sighed, downing the last of her drink and placing it- more like slamming it- back on the table. She didn't want to give away what most probably a secret that Quinn worked at the club, that would be atrocious behavior. But, she also wanted to give Puck a reasonable explanation, not a lie. And as a side note, she wondered if Puck knew that Quinn worked here. He did live fairly close by and apparently frequented joints like it, and he and Quinn shared a special and unbreakable connection.

"I just had an unexpected conversation with an old friend," Rachel replied at last, leaving it purposefully vague. Puck motioned to another set of drinks. Thank goodness he'd had the foresight to get multiples this time.

"Oh. Someone call?" he questioned, taking a sip from his glass. He had his pinky stuck out while he did so, and Rachel wanted to make a comment about how it made him look like a girl, or British, but thankfully was able to restrain her now slightly drunken and clearly easily distractible thoughts.

"Something like that," Rachel mumbled into a glass of blue liquid that smelled like vodka. So at least she knew what the base was of this drink.

For the next hour, the two of them sat and drank and talked, Rachel sneaking in covert glances at the strippers. What? She was twenty two years old and had no black and white defined sexuality. She was entitled to a few appreciative glances at women who were being paid to be looked at.

Puck avoided the topic of Finn, which Rachel was grateful for. Mostly he talked about his new business, what some of the other former glee clubbers were up to, and some things that had changed around Lima. He, in turn, pried for information into Rachel's life. She excitedly relayed the information that she had been in two off-Broadway plays so far and was currently auditioning for the real thing as often as she could. He'd pressed her for information on her dating life, and she'd recounted a few of the terribly embarrassing dates Kurt had set her up to go on. She even told him that there had been dates of both genders, which led Puck to making that wistful face he made when confronted with the possibility of lesbians and maybe even a threesome.

"Wipe that look off your face, Puckerman. I want to assure you that even if I was seeing a girl, I would have to ensure that you were kept as far away as possible from her so that you couldn't make any crude comments around her in the nature of the ones you surely have swirling around your head," Rachel reprimanded him. She attempted to get up to make a storm off to the bathroom. She usually retained control of her speech, even while drunk. Her balance and other physical capabilities? Not so much.

Luckily, she had only made it a step before she started to fall, the world tilting, so she was able to grab onto the table and lower herself back into her seat without losing too much of her grace. At least that's what she told herself.

"Dude, that's a lotta words. You seem diff'rent, ya know? But you still use a lotta words," Puck said, his head resting on the table now as he tried to get a better look up the stripper's ridiculously short skirt before she took it off.

"I seem to recall you telling me earlier on the phone that I haven't changed at all," Rachel reminded him. Puck's brow furrowed like he had to try really hard to think. He probably did.

"Oh. Well, yeah. Guess so. But I notice the diff'rences now more. I'm smarter drunk," he replied.

That comment sent Rachel into a fit of giggles. She really did have to use the bathroom, but this time when she stood up, she did so slowly and used the table for assistance. Once she was sure she was able to stand without ending up on the floor, she made her way into the bathroom.

Once she was done, she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her head was spinning like she was on a tilt-a-whirl at a carnival, but that fit just perfectly. Her life really was a circus at this point, wasn't it? Her perfect little life plan would put her currently married to Finn, starring in a Broadway show, and beginning to think about kids in a few years. She also imagined staying in touch with almost everyone from glee club so they could give interviews when her biography was written. They could tell stories of her triumphs in the beginnings of her singing career and how wonderful she'd been even as a teenager.

Looking at that plan, she hadn't even really gotten close. She was single, attending Finn's wedding. She had been in a few small productions, but had yet to step on a Broadway stage. Kids were something to laugh about since the farthest she'd gotten in a relationship in three years was to the third date. She had only really stayed in touch with Kurt since college, leaving the rest of the glee club behind.

And then, to top it all off, to add a ring master to her circus, Quinn Fabray had just waltzed into her life. Well, it had actually been more like a saunter. People didn't usually sway their hips that much when they were waltzing… Focus!

With one last look at her reflection, she laughed, realizing that though she still recognized the face in the mirror, her sixteen year old self wouldn't recognize the person behind it at all.

* * *

**A/N: I don't want Quinn to be a weak and broken character. She has her issues, but there's a reason for her choices. Just wanted to clarify. Also, Rachel is different than she was in high school for two major reasons- one, people change, especially when they go through college, and two, she went through a really bad break up that symbolized the end of her childhood fantasies.**

**Yeah, so I go off to college in two days, but hopefully I won't be too busy to post again. If I get some reviews, that might be the kick in the butt I need :)**


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Rachel awoke to the obnoxious sound of her alarm clock. She'd forgotten how annoying the one she had at this house was. Since going to college, she'd bought a new alarm clock, one that did not get progressively louder the longer you ignored it. She also awoke with a visit from a friend she hadn't had in a few months- a hangover. She silently promised herself that she wouldn't be getting drunk again in the near future. Rachel groaned, trying to remember just how many drinks she'd ended up having with Puck the night before.

Well, she certainly remembered the reason, considering that the reason was the same as why she was currently brushing her teeth and staring at the nice blue dress she'd bought for the occasion hanging on her door handle. It didn't take her long to get ready. She prided herself on the ability to do her clothes, hair, and makeup quickly, especially considering that speed in those areas would only help her to succeed on Broadway when quick costume changes were often a must.

Rachel was out the door being picked up by Kurt and Michael in no time. The two of them chattered eagerly about how the bachelorette party had been well-planned and told Rachel about some of the stupid things others had done while drunk.

"You should have seen Brittany. She was offering to do body shots and stripping before we even an hour into the party," Michael laughed.

"Well, dear, that's not that different than when we were in high school," Kurt informed his boyfriend.

Rachel wasn't surprised to hear about Brittany's antics. It did make her ache a little that Brittany had been there since Rachel had always enjoyed what little time she'd spent with the blonde dancer. She seemed so harmless, unlike her close friend Santana. Speaking of Santana…

"How did Santana feel about Brittany's wild side showing?" Rachel asked. At that, Kurt actually laughed. Rachel wondered what she'd said to make him react in such a way. Her question seemed perfectly legitimate to her.

"Oh, honey, you really have no idea what's happened to anyone, do you?" Kurt said, patting her arm from the front seat. She was in the back alone, unfortunately, since Michael was driving.

"Well, I suppose you could inform me," she sniffed.

Kurt just shrugged. "Well, I don't think that any of the former glee relationships lasted. It's not uncommon, you know, we were only in high school," Kurt explained.

Rachel knew she probably had at least half a scowl on her face by now. Kurt took one glance at her face and she knew he was about to start backtracking, but she cut him off. "I just always thought that the two of them would end up together. No one seemed to be able to keep Santana in line besides Brittany. And Brittany seemed to tolerate Santana, god bless her, so I had adopted the assumption that once they were out of high school and away from the stigmatisms that came along with it, Santana would no longer be afraid of a lesbian relationship and Brittany would accept her offer."

"I guess things don't always work out the way it seems they will in high school," Michael commented quietly. Before Rachel could commit mutiny and rip his head off for making such a tactless comment, Kurt sent her a look that said "don't kill him, he's driving." Or, at least, that's what she took it to mean. It's true- if she were to kill him, she highly doubted that Kurt would be able to take control of the vehicle fast enough to save the car from what would become an inevitable crash. She resigned herself to humming the song "Getting Away With Murder" under her breath.

* * *

When the three of them arrived at the church for the wedding, they were early since Kurt part of the wedding party. Kurt had to attend to some things with Finn, and that would mean leaving Rachel alone with Michael, so he pulled the girl aside first to warn her about not killing the guy. He explained that Michael hadn't meant anything inflammatory by his statement and also threatened to leave Rachel to fend for myself at the wedding reception if she hurt his boyfriend at all. Even verbally. With an exaggerated sigh, she agreed to his terms and conditions, promising not to hurt Michael.

In order to comply with the Kurt's request, Rachel wandered away from Michael, instead walking around the church and looking at the beautiful rooms. It was an older church, probably built a century ago, and it had stain glass windows that distorted the light and fractured it into smaller and angular pieces on the floor and walls. It was a stunning sight, really.

She was staring at one such window in a side hallway that connected to the church sanctuary when a voice startled her from her own thoughts.

"Rachel?"

Rachel looked up to see Puck. He studied her for a moment before asking, "You didn't wake up with too much of a headache, did you?"

Rachel laughed for a moment. "I did experience a slight hangover from our slightly impromptu festivities last night, but I happy to say that the effects have mostly worn off by now. I hope you fared better?"

"Yeah, I've got a better tolerance than you. Though, I've gotta say, I'm impressed. After you disappeared for a while, you really chugged away pretty good," Puck said in a way that sounded like a compliment. Rachel restrained from correcting his grammar, saying that he should have used the word "well" not "good".

"I have been known to drink alcohol when the occasion calls for it," Rachel responded with a shrug. Puck gave her a lazy smile.

"Well, maybe we could have another _occasion_ sometime soon," he suggested.

At that, Rachel rolled her eyes. Some things never changed, like Noah Puckerman hitting on girls around every turn. "While I am flattered, I will have to decline. I will only be in town for two more days and those will mostly be spent with my fathers and Kurt."

"Yeah, yeah, I figured you'd say no. But it doesn't hurt to try," Puck said, smiling easily. Rachel started to smile in return but stopped, thinking about what Puck had just said coupled with what he'd done for her the night before- taking her out to help her avoid thoughts of Finn.

Rachel surprised the both of them by pulling Puck into a hug. "Thank you," she whispered. Puck said nothing, which cemented the feeling Rachel had. Puck was trying to make things feel normal for her again, trying to remind her that things were not falling apart. And for someone she hadn't talked to since college, someone who was also best friend's with the man who'd left her in tears on more than one occasion, that was a huge thing to be thankful for.

* * *

The actual wedding ceremony was fairly short. Rachel sat next to Michael in peace, having forgiven him for his earlier indiscretion. There was a short message from the minister, followed by the usual vows and exchanging of rings and such. Rachel didn't really pay much attention to any of this. Well, she did notice that Addy was blonde. Finn had always liked blondes, hadn't he? Though, objectively, Rachel noted that Addy was nowhere near as attractive as Quinn, the other blonde Finn had dated.

The only other part of the ceremony that really caught Rachel's interest was when Puck had to deliver the rings. He looked like he'd run a mile before going up there with the way he was out of breath and off-balance. It was sort of sweet how nervous he was. Sure, the responsibilities of the best man were perfect for Puck when it was throwing parties, but keeping track of the rings? That was something huge, but Puck seemed to be successful with it.

Though the ceremony was short, Rachel was relieved when Finn finally kissed his bride so the thing could officially be declared over and she could look forward to getting drunk- again- in very little time once the reception started.

She had scanned the audience four times, never once seeing Quinn.

* * *

"I wanted to thank you so much for coming, Rachel, I know how much it means to Finn that you made it," Addy said with a polite smile. _Yeah, I bet he's real thrilled. He hasn't so much as looked at me yet._ Rachel's thoughts travelled in the vindictive direction, but she plastered her own polite smile on in spite of that.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," she gushed in response. She was an actress, after all. Addy nodded to her before reimbursing herself in the crowd to greet more of the attendees.

Rachel took another sip of the drink in her hand, wondering why just earlier in the morning she'd been promising herself that she wouldn't drink again for a long, long time. Drinking was good. It made her less on edge.

She had yet to run into anyone she knew, and she wondered if that was on purpose. Okay, so she had mostly been standing in an alcove off to the side of the open bar, but that didn't mean people couldn't approach her. It did make it hard to see her, but a few people could surely make the effort.

Rachel scanned the crowd, looking to see who she did recognize. She saw Addy and Finn, of course, and she spotted Puck, Kurt, and Michael out there as well. Rachel also caught sight of Tina, Mike, Artie, Mercedes, and Sam, the whole group of them in a corner together laughing. She wondered if they were reminiscing about the days of glee club. Or, it was possible that they had all kept in touch and this was just another usual day for them, drinking and laughing together. The thought stung, reminding her that she had cut most of her ties from high school.

Rachel looked down to find that her glass was unfortunately empty and decided to remedy that by approaching the bar and asking for a martini. As the bartender was complying with her order, Rachel heard a snort of laughter from beside her.

"Berry. I thought Puck was lying when he said you came." Santana was sitting on a stool in front of the bar, her hand firmly wrapped around the stem of a half-filled glass.

"Santana. It's…" Rachel trailed off. She'd been about to say "it's nice to see you", but that didn't really seem appropriate. "been a while," she settled on.

Santana made that snorting noise again. "I'll drink to that," she said, raising her glass before downing the rest of it. "Then again, I'll drink to anything right now."

Rachel raised an eyebrow at the comment but didn't question it.

"So, I always thought that this day would end up being you and that manchild tying the knot," Santana said offhandedly. Rachel's jaw dropped open. Before she could even come up with a dignified response to that, however, Santana went on. "Congratulations on getting out of that fate. Then again, I would have thought me and Britts would be sneaking off during the ceremony so we could cross off 'doing it in a church' from our bucket lists."

Any thoughts of returning the Latina's seditious words suddenly evaporated from Rachel's mind when she realized what Santana was doing- she was trying to pick a fight because she hated this situation just as much as Rachel did. Rachel followed Santana's gaze to see that it ended on none other than Brittany, who was on the dance floor with a nice-looking brunette guy.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I imagined that too, including you and Brittany having sex during my wedding. I may have actually felt let down if you did not, actually," Rachel said, only half-joking.

Santana laughed, fully this time. "You're not so bad, Berry. Or maybe you're just much more tolerable with alcohol."

"When I get married, promise me you'll sneak off to have sex with whatever hot woman you happen to have at the time?" Rachel said, mostly to get Santana to laugh again, and laugh she did.

"Bitch, please, you know I will," Santana replied. Rachel would have winced at the swearing directed at her, but she knew in this case it was being used lightly, not to insult her.

She had always been a bit of a people pleaser, and in this moment, she knew the other girl needed something to laugh at. It was completely out of her comfort zone, joking with Santana, actually, joking with much of anyone, but she felt she could make an exception with how down the other girl seemed. Rachel's heart bled with sympathy. Meanwhile, Rachel was wondering if her life really had been turned upside down. Here she was having a civil conversation with none other than Santana Lopez the day after she'd run into Quinn Fabray. Was karma seeking her out for something?

That reminded Rachel- Quinn. If anyone might possibly know about the blonde besides Puck, it would be Santana.

"Speaking of expectations… I had expected to see Quinn at the wedding, considering everyone from glee club seems to have been invited, including me despite my previous relationship with Finn and the estranged nature since that relationship has ended," Rachel tried to keep her voice as casual as possible.

Santana looked over at Rachel with bleary eyes. She had been drinking- hard. Rachel was jealous.

"Q got an invite," Santana answered simply. Well, if that wasn't infuriating. Rachel decided she would just have to press further.

"And why did she decline?"

"Really? Why did you come is a better question. It's your ex's wedding, and you don't even talk to anyone here except Kurt, am I right?" Santana scoffed. Rachel nodded stiffly. "Right. Quinn didn't really keep in touch with anyone either. So why would she wanna come?"

Rachel didn't really have a good answer to that question. So, in place of creating an intelligent response, she took another gulp of her martini and wondered how in hell she had ended up drinking two nights in a row- once with Puck, which was weird enough, but now with Santana. Was the apocalypse approaching? Because if so, Santana's earlier comment about bucket lists brought up the good point that she still had a lot on hers.

"What about you? Are you here because you kept in touch with people from high school?" Rachel finally asked.

She noticed Santana's gaze rested on Brittany again. "I didn't keep in touch with many of them. I'm here because I'm a masochist," Santana muttered.

After a few more minutes, Santana excused herself to go to the bathroom. Well, actually, Santana doesn't really "excuse herself" for much of anything. Her exact words had been more along the lines of, "I've gotta take a piss. Don't let anyone steal my purse and shit."

So that's how Rachel ended up with Santana's purse in her lap and the extreme temptation to take out her phone. Santana had said that Quinn hadn't kept in touch with anyone, but maybe, just maybe, she had Quinn's phone number saved in her cell. Rachel bit her lip, debating the scenario in her head. She really shouldn't do it. It would be wrong for so many reasons, starting with the fact that she would have to rifle through another woman's things to get to the phone. Also, stealing Quinn's phone number was not even near acceptable no matter how much she may want it.

This made Rachel pause. Why did she want to contact Quinn again so badly? Was it because their previous conversation had ended so stiltedly? Was it because Rachel wanted to check up on her once sort-of-kind-of friend from high school? She really would have no reason to ever see Quinn again in her life if it hadn't been for running into her last night at that strip club.

When her moral conscience was weighed against her curiosity, the latter won out. Rachel looked subtly from the left to the right (as if anyone would be able to notice that it wasn't _her_ purse in her lap) before opening the purse and fishing out Santana's cell phone. Sure enough, when Rachel scrolled through the contacts, under the simple moniker "Q" was a phone number that Rachel quickly scribbled on a napkin with the pen she kept on her in case of emergencies. The deed now done, Rachel shoved the napkin down the front of her dress since such dresses did not come with the convenience of pockets installed. She also placed the cell phone back in Santana's purse and tried to get her heart rate to return to normal before Santana returned from the restroom.

Rachel felt elated from her sneaky tactic and couldn't stop smiling, even when Santana did come back. The Latina gave her an odd look.

"You have a little much of the happy juice, Berry?" she questioned. Rachel, thrilled to have been given such an easy out, nodded enthusiastically. An annoying side effect of this was that it caused her to become dizzy, the world rotating slightly. "Yeah, can't blame you. Now, it's time to gets my vodkas on."

Santana returned to her routine of slamming back drinks and Rachel meandered through the dance floor, looking for Puck. When she found him, he was thankfully not accompanied by any of the other glee club members, all of whom either had not yet noticed her or didn't want to approach her. She wouldn't blame them if that was the case. They had never really reached out a hand of friendship to her in high school, and the same sort of rule had applied during college and beyond.

"Hey, Jew Babe. Dance with me," Puck slurred. Rachel took his proffered hand but gave him a pointed look.

"Drinking to excess two nights in a row is not good for your liver, Noah. In fact, if you continue the rate of alcohol consumption that I have projected you to considering your current rate and tolerance levels, I would venture that you could be on the transplant list in no more than ten years. You would end up low on the list when your drinking is taken into consideration, plus your job is not considered a highly valued one by society, which is ridiculous if you ask me, since pools do need to be cleaned, regardless of the economy or other political factors affecting the job market," Rachel rambled.

Puck just gave her his signature lazy grin and nodded at her, eyes glazed over. He spun her around so he could put his hands on her hips from behind her as they danced. Mercedes and Brittany were laughing not too far away and Brittany caught Rachel's eye, tugging on Mercedes arm. The two women started making their way over.

"Cover me, Puck?" Rachel pleaded. Puck let out a groan.

"Fine, just this once. After this, you're gonna have to handle your own peeps," Puck relented.

Puck turned the pair around so they were dancing in the opposite direction, allowing Rachel the cover to sneak around behind some other unknown people dancing nearby. By the time Brittany and Mercedes got to Puck, Rachel was no where to be found, having disappeared into the crowd.

As it turned out, Rachel didn't need Puck to cover her again. She tried to leave to head out to Kurt and Michael's rental car, but she ended up having to stop halfway through the parking lot to throw up. She just thanked god that she hadn't made it to the car first. Kurt would never have forgiven her if she ruined the rental.

Now feeling a little dehydrated and _so_ not in the mood to party, Rachel stumbled across the road to a convenience store where she bought a bottle of water and then fell asleep outside of the store against the wall, which wasn't at all comfortable, but it reminded her vaguely of when Quinn had her pressed up against the side of the strip club. That memory may have also invaded her dreams.

* * *

**A/N: Just started college, which is fun. I really shouldn't have stayed up late finishing this chapter, but I did, so you guys better really like it! **


	4. Chapter 4

When Rachel woke up, it was to a shake on her shoulder from none other than Brittany.

"Rachel?" the blonde questioned softly as Rachel groaned and lifted her head to meet her eyes. "The brick wall is, like, the least comfy place you could've picked to sleep. You should come to my bed. It's so soft and fluffy and I have ducks on my sheets."

Rachel pushed her hands against her temples, trying to reduce the throbbing sensation that wracked her brain. Her neck was incredibly stiff and felt as though someone had stomped on the back of it. Her body was rebelling against her harsh treatment of it, what with the alcohol and the sleeping against a wall.

"I'm good, but thank you for your kind offer, Brittany," Rachel muttered. She made to stand up but had to accept a helping hand from Brittany because of how stiff she was. Wondering how long she'd managed to sleep outside the convenience store, Rachel glanced at her phone. It had been two whole hours since she'd gone to get the bottle of water, two whole hours since she'd run away from the very woman who was now holding her hand after helping her up.

"Well, if you're not going to come with me, is there somewhere you _do_ wanna go?" Brittany asked.

The question cut through an extra level for Rachel because her answer was so uncertain. Where _did _she want to go? She thought she had the perfect life plan, but the more she lived her life, the more she thought that she had just been a naïve girl with dreams too large for her small body. She wanted to go back to New York, to Broadway, but she also dreaded her return to the state because it would mean returning to her hopes and dreams being dashed after almost every audition as she waited for her big break. She wanted to stick around Lima and pretend things were simple again and just live with her fathers, but they simply doted on her and were utterly convinced that she would be successful without even trying. She wanted… she wanted to go back to the strip club she'd gone to with Puck because seeing Quinn there had sparked something within her. Maybe it was seeing another girl from her high school days whose life hadn't gone as planned after graduation. Maybe it was because Quinn had always made Rachel feel _something_, usually fear, but at least it was a strong emotion. Or maybe it was because Quinn had been wearing glitter and a ridiculously revealing outfit.

"Take me to my car?" Rachel managed to croak out. Her voice cracked, which usually would be a moment where she would panic and start mentally breaking down, but she already felt so broken that there wasn't any more damage to do at the moment.

Brittany nodded and asked Rachel where her car was. The blonde dancer was kind enough to actually walk with Rachel all the way to Kurt's rental car, allowing the smaller girl to lean on her arm the whole way.

"Thank you, Brittany. It was unbelievably kind for you to track me down and walk me back to my car. Perhaps at some point while I'm still in Lima we will be able to get together for coffee or some other normal outing for people of our age," Rachel said with a plastered-on smile. Well, more like just plastered. She was still drunk from two hours ago.

Brittany cocked her head slightly to the left. "Okay," she replied simply. It wasn't until much later that Rachel realized that Brittany, much like herself, did not contain the amount of bubbly energy she usually did.

Brittany left, heading back to the party, and left Rachel to wait in the car for Kurt and Michael. It seemed that Brittany had found the two boys and told her about Rachel because within minutes the two of them were opening the car doors.

"Oh my god, Rachel, what happened to you?" Michael asked as soon as he got in the car.

"We heard you were-" Kurt started to say.

"Sleeping against a wall," Michael finished. Rachel allowed herself to smile a little at how cute the two of them were, finishing each other's sentences. She used to always wish someone would be like that with her. Finn had failed spectacularly in that department. He usually couldn't even understand her sentences, no less finish them.

"Yeah. I drank a little bit too much and came outside for some fresh air, but I guess I was really tired, so I just sat down against the wall of the convenience store. Because of my obvious inebriation and lack of sleep, my body's desires took over and I fell asleep," Rachel explained to her two friends.

"Maybe you should let your, ah, body's desires take over more often," Kurt said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. Michael suppressed at giggle at his boyfriend's comment.

Rachel's face contorted into one of confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"He just means that… well… when was the last time that you've had a date?" Michael asked, a little tentatively. He ran a hand through his carefully gelled blonde hair.

Rachel thought about that. "About two months ago when Kurt set me up with-"

"That's exactly it. You haven't put yourself out there at all since Finn. I thought maybe that being back here would give you a chance to finally lay that to rest and let yourself go a little. You know, actually dance with some of the cute boys in attendance at the reception," Kurt pointed out as Michael started the car.

Rachel leaned her head back against the headrest in the back seat, praying for patience that was already in short supply. "I am exhausted, drunk, my neck and head are giving me extreme grievances, and I just had to attend my ex-fiancé's wedding as well as hold a conversation with one of my primary tormentors since getting here. I would really appreciate if you could please just drop me off at my fathers' house and cease berating my lack of love life, especially in such a time as this," Rachel said in a clipped voice.

"Wait, what tormentor did you talk to?" Kurt asked. Rachel's eyes momentarily widened. She had been talking about Quinn, but she really couldn't tell Kurt that. He would have known that Quinn wasn't at the wedding or reception, and he would surely ask where it was that the two of them had run into each other, and Rachel couldn't tell Kurt that. She wouldn't do that to Quinn.

"I had to endure a conversation with none other than a drunk and slightly angry Santana Lopez. Now, I would believe that counts as an excuse to give me some peace," Rachel responded, even though talking with Santana had not been too bad. In fact, it had pretty much been the best part of Rachel's night. That was a sort of sad reality.

The rest of the car ride was silent.

* * *

When Rachel woke up the next morning, it was to three things- a couple of aspirin, a cup of water, and a note that read:

_Good morning, sweetie. We will be out this morning, but hopefully we will be able to catch up this afternoon. Hugs and kisses! XOXO_

Rachel rolled her eyes at the childish ending, but was still smiling at the sentiment. Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was already 11:30, so her dads would be home soon. By the time that she got out of bed for real and got ready to face the day, it was almost 12:00.

Rachel walked around her room, taking in the distant familiarity that came with being in her old room. She ran her finger along some pictures she had stuck on the side of her mirror- a picture from each time she'd gone to Nationals. She stopped over the last one from senior year, gently running her thumb over each familiar face- Puck, Brittany, Santana, Tina, Artie, Mike, Kurt, Mercedes, Sam… Quinn. Rachel paused her thumb next to Quinn's face, smiling in response to the blonde girl's large and beaming smile. It had been such a happy moment captured in time, when it had been announced that they had won Nationals. Quinn had a carefree look on her face that was so polar opposite to the hardened look she'd worn when Rachel had last seen her that it wiped the smile off the brunette's face.

Rachel cleared her throat and stepped away from the picture, checking her phone for messages. She had one from Kurt (just one?) that asked if she was feeling okay. Other than that, there was nothing. She let out a sigh, knowing that other than Kurt and Michael, who didn't really count anyway since he was just attached to Kurt, she didn't have anyone that would text her.

Having a sudden thought, Rachel shoved her hand down her dress (which she was still wearing from the night before) and pulled out a crumpled napkin with ten digits on it. She punched the numbers into her phone and labeled the contact Quinn. Staring down at the phone, she bit her lip, trying to decide if she should hit "send" to call the number.

Ten minutes later she was still staring at her phone's screen when she heard her fathers coming in the door. She slammed her phone down on her bed, feeling guilty for having the number and ashamed for not being able to pluck up the courage to actually call.

* * *

After a few hours of hanging out with her fathers, Rachel was getting a little tired of it. She loved them so much, but she could only be around them for so long before they started getting on her nerves, which was something that had changed after high school. The more independent Rachel became, the less time she found herself hanging around her parents. So, in order to get some time away from them, Rachel called Kurt.

"Hello?" Kurt answered.

"Save me?" Rachel pleaded.

"From what? Are your fathers bringing out the pictures of you naked in the bathtub again?" Kurt questioned. Rachel scoffed.

"No. Well, yes, but that's not the problem," Rachel replied. "The problem is that I can't stand their general suffocating nature for extended periods of time. Is there any way you could pick me with the rental car and allow me to spend time with you and Michael?"

"Look, sweetie, it's not that I don't want to spend time with you, but… this is some of Michael's only time off from work and we were hoping to enjoy it together," Kurt said slowly, apologetically.

Rachel huffed into the phone, though she really couldn't blame her friend for wanting to spend some precious alone time with his boyfriend. She would probably feel the same way if she actually had a significant other.

"Fine. I'll see you later," Rachel ended the call curtly. The line went dead and she stared down at her phone, willing herself to find something to do that didn't involve her fathers. She could go for a walk, maybe, but then she ran the risk of running into unwanted company. And her despair over having nothing to do to keep her mind off of more depressing topics is what led her to pressing the send button over Quinn's name in her contacts list.

As soon as she pressed the button, she started internally freaking out. What if Quinn didn't answer? Or worse, what if she _did_? What would Rachel say to her? Rachel wasn't even supposed to have her number. Quinn had made it quite clear the last time they talked that she would prefer to not encounter the diva again, and then Rachel had gone and filched the number from Santana. Damn Santana from handing her purse over to go to the bathroom.

After hearing three rings, Rachel slammed the end button, disconnecting the call. She could hear her heart thrumming in her chest at what had just happened, what she had almost just done. At least Quinn hadn't answered, and Rachel hadn't left a voicemail, so now she remained completely anonymous.

That is, until Rachel's phone started buzzing, sending the brunette shooting up into the air. She panicked and answered with a shaky and stuttering "hello" that sounded nothing like she normally did.

"Hey, someone from this number just called my phone," Quinn responded. Rachel took in several shallow and quick breathes, her fingers finding the threads of a blanket on her bed and toying with them nervously.

"Um, yeah, sorry. It, uh, won't happen again. It must have been a wrong number. Yes, I misdialed my cellular device and got connected to yours by accident and pure happenstance. I promise I won't do it again, because I'm sure you're a busy woman who has no time for silly interruptions like incorrect callers such as myself. I will hang up now and leave you to your life, and I sincerely hope you have a good day," Rachel rambled, trying to make her voice sound at a different pitch to disguise her identity. Not that she expected Quinn to know her voice.

There was a slight pause before Quinn responded. "Rachel Berry?" she sighed, sounding slightly put out.

"Wh-what?" Rachel sputtered. How did Quinn know it was her? Certainly her superior acting skills had succeeded in properly disguising her voice.

"No, I would recognize that rambling anywhere," Quinn said drily. Okay, so maybe she had mumbled her thoughts into the phone about disguising her voice.

So, she said something really intelligent, like, "Oh."

"I thought I told you that the only way you would be talking to me again was if you paid for it?" Quinn said drolly.

Rachel gulped, the memory of that moment fresh in her mind. She remembered even more details now than she had noticed originally, like how Quinn had leaned in slightly predatorily at the moment when she'd said that. And how Rachel's mind had wandered briefly to what it was like to receive a lap dance from Quinn Fabray. Pure curiosity.

She collected herself. "Yes, well, I paid my dues by partaking in drunken conversation with Santana in order to get this number," Rachel replied, talking with false confidence.

To her great surprise, Quinn laughed. "That's quite a price to pay; Santana's no fun drunk. You're not bad, Berry. You know what you need to do to get what you want, and in that way we're similar," Quinn acquiesced to Rachel's retort. The line was quiet for a moment. "So what was so important that you had to steal my phone number from Santana to call me?"

Rachel stalled, trying to remember exactly what the answer to that question was. "I was unsatisfied with the way we left things, both in high school and two nights ago and thought it best to contact you again, and meeting you for the activities you alluded to would not only make it an extremely inappropriate place to make conversation, but it would also be on your turf and I thought it best to meet somewhere on neutral ground," Rachel explained. She was fairly proud of her explanation.

"I see," Quinn hummed. Rachel was just relieved that Quinn hadn't hung up on her yet.

"So is that a yes?" Rachel asked.

"You haven't asked me a question yet, Berry," Quinn reminded her with a low laugh. Rachel responded in kind.

"Oh. Right. Quinn, would you like to meet me for coffee sometime?" Rachel asked.

"Dinner would work better for me, especially since you're probably only going to be in town for a few days if I'm right. So, if you really feel the need to meet with me, I'll be at Breadstix tonight at 7," Quinn responded.

"That's great, that works well for me also. I will see you then, Quinn!" Rachel chirped before hanging up.

Now that she was once more sitting in her room with her phone in hand, Rachel had a flow of thoughts and emotions. On one hand, she was relieved that she had an excuse to get out of the house. On another hand, she was now extremely nervous to be meeting up with Quinn. Sure, the other girl had seemed cordial on the phone and even agreed to meet for dinner, suggested it, but Rachel wasn't sure what Quinn would be like. Would she revert to that primal type of person she'd exhibited two nights previously at the strip club? Would she remain polite like she had been on the phone? Both of those versions of Quinn were ones she'd seen before during high school. Rachel had commonly been on the receiving end of Quinn's teeth-baring passionate anger, but their relationship had evolved into a much more polite and calm one by senior year.

Rachel glanced at the clock to see that she still had an hour to prepare for this meeting, so she hurried to the bathroom to check on her hair and makeup. It wouldn't do to show up to dinner looking only half put together. Her mind wandered to what Quinn would be wearing. She had seen Quinn mostly in her Cheerios uniform at first, and then baby doll dresses when she had been kicked off the squad. That look had changed to punk with the pink hair after Quinn experienced yet again more emotional trauma, and then her appearance had leveled out once again in their last year of high school. The only time Rachel had seen Quinn since high school was outside the strip club, and her attire then had been… significantly different than high school. And significantly more revealing.

"I have absolutely nothing to judge what would be proper apparel," Rachel complained under her breath. She couldn't very well wear something along the lines as Quinn had worn upon their last meeting. She had outgrown the excessive argyle, though she still wore a touch of it on occasion, so hopefully her fashion would be up to par. Again she cursed Kurt for not being around to help her.

Rachel stepped away from the mirror, running through possible topics of conversation, trying to plan on which ones to avoid and which ones would be safe. By the time quarter to seven rolled around and Rachel started walking to Breadstix, she was, needless to say, very high-strung.

* * *

**A/N: Just finished my first week of classes, yay! So, if there are any grammar mistakes that happened in this, I apologize, I am sleep-deprived. I had a deep conversation about whether or not unicorns can get drunk today. That is a show of my sanity. I also ran around flapping my arms in an attempt to keep myself awake. I will also be in the practice room in the music building at 2 AM hopefully. Yay college!**

**Next chapter has Quinn and Rachel meeting up. Any OOC-ness perceived at this point will hopefully be explained. Also, like I think I've said before, the characters are all older and as such have matured/changed a least a little. Until next time!**

**Oh, and reviews make me break out into song in the common room.**


	5. Chapter 5

When Rachel walked into the restaurant, Quinn was already sitting down at a table. With a quick glance at the blonde woman's outfit- simple jeans with a blazer- Rachel knew that she'd dressed appropriately.

"Hello, Quinn," Rachel greeted as she approached the table. Quinn looked up at her with a small smile and gestured for her to sit down. Rachel did so and the two of them sat in silence for a short span of time, neither knowing quite how to start a conversation. Rachel was scrolling through her mentally pre-prepared lists of topics of conversation but found none to be fitting. So, instead, she sat without a word, twisting her knuckles together so they locked in place atop the table.

"So…" Quinn drawled at last. Rachel looked at her eagerly, awaiting the conversation. "What made you decide to pick me as the object of your stalking?"

Rachel's jaw dropped. Quinn's voice was far from the absolute enraged tones she'd heard the former cheerleader use in high school- it was actually rather wry- but it was the words that shocked her. Stalk? Quinn was accusing her of _stalking_?

"I am most certainly not stalking you, Quinn Fabray," Rachel huffed, hangs unwringing to cross over her chest.

Quinn just smirked. "Well, I know Santana didn't give up my number voluntarily." Rachel balked. She hadn't been expecting Quinn to contact Santana and ask if she'd given Quinn's number to Rachel. In fact, Rachel had been told by Santana that Quinn hadn't really kept in touch with anyone from McKinley, so Rachel had assumed that included Santana herself.

"I was not aware you were on any sort of terms with Santana," Rachel replied.

"I live with Santana," Quinn responded. For the second time in less than ten minutes, Rachel found herself completely and utterly surprised. Thankfully, she was momentarily saved when the waiter came back with their food they'd ordered upon arrival.

"Really? That's… unexpected. I would have thought she and Brittany would have finally accepted their obvious relationship and moved in together at this point in their lives, and judging by how things looked at the wedding, I'd say that didn't happen," Rachel said once the waiter left.

"Brittany moved to California for a dancing job," Quinn replied, taking a long sip of her water.

"Wow, really? That's great! I mean, for Brittany, but poor Santana," Rachel paused. "Not that Santana is in any way someone to be pitied, but-"

"Relax. Yeah, Santana didn't take it well," Quinn interrupted, holding out her hand in a stopping motion.

And then, once more, the two women were left in silence, each eating their own meals. Rachel chewed on her salad, wondering if the meal had always been this tasteless or if over time it had worsened. Or maybe it was just the numb feeling in her mouth from sitting in a restaurant with someone she had no idea what say to.

"How did that happen? You moving in with Santana, I mean," Rachel blurted out. She'd been wondering it for the past couple of minutes, and she could no longer contain it.

Quinn slowly swallowed her food and took another swig of water, all the while staring at Rachel, focusing intently. The scrutiny made Rachel want to squirm, but she stayed still. "Santana and I live together because after Brittany moved to California, the two of us started a relationship together," Quinn answered, her eyes never leaving Rachel's, as if daring her to look away.

Rachel's breath caught in her throat and she had to consciously stop her eyes from widening. Had she really just heard correctly? Quinn was in a relationship with Santana? Was she not aware Santana was a girl? Last Rachel had checked, Quinn was the former head cheerleader, the girl every guy wanted, the girl with whom Rachel had fought over boys with, the girl who had gotten pregnant in their sophomore year. Those were all indicators of a ruler-straight person. Quinn's eyes took in every little movement of Rachel's reaction, and Rachel had a creeping suspicion that the other woman knew every thought that was going through her mind. Quinn was studying her reaction, noting her responses, assessing Rachel's judgment of her.

"You… you're gay?" Rachel asked at last, picking the most obvious question to start with. Of course, she could have asked something along the lines of how the two of them had gotten together, when they decided to try a relationship, how their relationship was going, or any of those normal responses to learning that a friend or acquaintance is in a relationship, but this was no normal situation. This was Quinn Fabray in a relationship with another woman. With Santana Lopez, McKinley's resident slut at one point, later hopelessly in love with Brittany, who had still seemed in love with the blonde dancer when Rachel had seen her the night before.

Quinn cocked her head to the side, her hazel eyes still not leaving Rachel's. Rachel felt as though the eyes were burning holes in her head, seeing right through to her brain, to her innermost thoughts. "Well, I could be bisexual for all you know," Quinn pointed out. Rachel started to backtrack, syllables pouring out of her mouth, but Quinn cut her off. "Relax. Yes, I'm gay. I really didn't act that much different than Santana before she came out, if you think about it. Yeah, I didn't sleep with a bunch of guys, but I did throw myself into multiple relationships that I didn't really care about. And, considering my job, I get to be reminded on a daily basis how much men are pigs."

Rachel cleared her throat and took a sip of her drink to pass the time. "Right. So, you and Santana," she prompted.

Quinn leaned back in her seat, her eyes glazing over a little bit like she was lost in a memory. Rachel had seen that look before, like when Quinn would be reading in the back of the room during Glee practice, lost in the world her novels would create for her to live in. Rachel wanted to jump into that fantasy to see just how big Quinn's imagination was, to see the surely vivid images that swirled in there. Her own head was filled with nebulous dreams, not stark contrast and neon colors like she imagined Quinn had.

"She was there for me when I came out of my self-induced closet and I was there for her when Brittany moved on. We found each other," Quinn summarized succinctly. It was beautiful, her phrasing. They "found each other". Rachel couldn't imagine anything more moving than two people who desperately needed each other coming together, _finding_ each other, in every sense of the phrase. Finding companionship, finding comfort, finding love?

"And you've been together ever since?" Rachel asked, ripping herself out of her daydream of finding someone in that way.

Quinn tilted her head to the side, some of her hair falling out of place from behind her ear. Her hair had grown out some since Rachel had last seen it, but Quinn had still kept it fairly short. It flowed more that way.

"Not exactly," Quinn replied. Those two words were much more ambiguous than Rachel had wanted, but she knew that this conversation was pressing boundaries already and it needed to change. Sure enough, Quinn moved the topic along. "Enough about me. What about you? You talk about your expectations of what you thought my life would be like, but I'd expected you to be on Broadway by now, collecting awards and taking names."

Quinn's words pierced Rachel's heart and she had to clench her jaw to stop tears from welling up in her eyes. "I guess life didn't take either of us to the destinations we were heading toward," Rachel responded.

The two women stared back down at their food, eating in silence for the rest of their meal. It wasn't so much an awkward silence as much as a knowing one. Both were disappointed with certain aspects of life, and neither wanted to talk about those aspects.

At the end of the meal, after paying the bill, Rachel could no longer keep a tight leash on her curiosity. "What made you drop out from Yale?"

Quinn did not glare at Rachel or make a biting remark; she just tilted her head back and laughed fully, richly. "You'd have to get me drunk to hear that one, Berry."

"Is that an offer?" Rachel asked semi-coyly. Quinn put her hand on Rachel's arm, sending a tingling sensation from the contact through the brunette's body.

"Not tonight, Berry. If I have a hangover tomorrow, I won't get nearly as many tips," Quinn answered. Rachel had been attempting to avoid that topic, the dangerous topic of Quinn's job. Rachel knew that she was internally judging the other woman harshly for her decision to end up selling the dream of her body to salivating men and women. She chewed on her lip as a physical reminder to keep her mouth shut.

Quinn, always a perceptive person, narrowed her eyes at the nervous gesture. "You've got something on your mind," she stated. There was no questioning lilt in her phrasing. There was only a certainty that came from years of observing people, of learning when they were disappointed in you. Rachel wished that she wasn't such an open book, that Quinn wasn't so used the expression of disappointment that she could pick up on it in an instant. "Well? Out with it. So far our conversation has been mostly catching up bullshit, so I'd love to hear your opinion on all of this. Which part is it that upsets you? Me dropping out of Yale? The stripping?"

"All of it!" Rachel exploded. The elderly couple at the table next to them gave her a hard glare so she calmed herself, taking a few deep breaths like her therapist told her to and rubbed her legs up and down with her hands, smoothing out her outfit from nonexistent wrinkles.

Quinn never broke her gaze. She barely blinked at Rachel's explosion of a response. Perhaps she'd been expecting it. In fact, she probably provoked it on purpose. These were the sort of things that Rachel could see well in hindsight but never developed the foresight to understand.

"Where would you like to start? The strip job?" Quinn said in an exhale of breath. She looked around as if searching for the answer in the room, at tables full of couples and families and friends. They gave her no reply. So she shrugged and made her own.

"It's a job, I'm good at it, and I get paid," she settled for as a response. Rachel huffed at that.

"You're good at more than that. You're Quinn Fabray. You tear out the hearts of men and glare so icily that it makes people wet themselves and still manage to be smarter than ninety percent of the people in any given room," Rachel shot back.

Quinn's nostrils flared and her one eyebrow quirked up, that same eyebrow that used to frighten Rachel so. "Wow, it's nice to hear that I'm a cold-hearted bitch, but at least I'm smart about it."

Rachel slammed her hands down on the table which again caught the attention of the elderly couple. She mouthed an apology to them and spoke quietly but with hot anger. "You didn't let me finish. You're also a big geek under that. You love to read and can get so into a book that the rest of the world fades away. And when you sing…"

"I don't. Sing, I mean. Not anymore," Quinn said, negating Rachel's point. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. The two were both breathing slightly heavier than usual- one out of anger and the other defensively. Neither spoke for a solid two minutes. Rachel tried to eat some more of her meal and Quinn didn't even bother.

Quinn was the one to break the silence. "Look, I didn't invite you back into my life so you could criticize me. Actually, I didn't invite you into my life at all. You wedged yourself in, just like you did during high school."

Rachel cocked her head to the side like a lost puppy. "I always felt like you were the one getting into my life. I suppose our paths intersected a fair bit in ways that neither of us foresaw or wished," she mused.

That comment started yet another pause in the conversation but this one was decidedly less awkward or filled with tension.

"I need to be going," Quinn said shortly after. Rachel gave her a look of disappointment. This was not how she'd imagined the meal going at all. It had not gone according to plan in the slightest. She'd broken her own rules of topics for conversation and expressing her disapproval and that had ended up creating awkward moments for both women.

Rachel let out a sigh. "Fine. But… if I didn't offend you too terribly, maybe you could call me sometime?"

Quinn gave her a hard look but not necessarily a negative one. Rachel felt as though she was being evaluated in some way but had no way of knowing what the grading criteria was or what the probability of her passing was. She hated being unprepared for anything in life, especially auditions, and this felt very much like one.

"I might," Quinn decided with a sniff of indifference.

Rachel watched as she put down a few dollars for her food and walked out the door.

* * *

**A/N: First of all, I should say that I know it's been a looooong time since I last updated. I have one word for why: college. It's been one hell of a ride so far, not all bad, but still quite an adventure. I'm sorry to have kept this for so long, but hopefully some of you will still read this update. I'm sorry for the lack of length, but I hope that you appreciate the content nonetheless. As soon as Christmas break happens I'll probably update again.**

**Also, if anyone has any input for where they'd like to see this go, feel free to leave a comment as to what that would be. I have a general outline but I'm willing to work in any other ideas.**

**I hope you're all having a lovely day/week/life/whatever. Thanks for reading.**


	6. Chapter 6

Over the next two days, Rachel waited every day to get a phone call from Quinn. She kept her phone on at all times, and she kept it next to her even when she was sleeping. Rachel wanted to be the one to reach out to Quinn since it was taking longer than she wanted, but she knew if she did Quinn wouldn't appreciate it. In fact, Quinn probably wouldn't even pick up her phone or answer a text. She would most likely ignore any attempt to reach out because of how poorly their last conversation had gone.

But after those two days, it was Tuesday and time for her, Kurt, and Michael to go back to New York. After a long and slightly tearful departure from her fathers, Rachel was stuck in a car, then a plane, and then taxi. By the time she got home, she was almost too exhausted to even think about Quinn or her phone. Almost. She still checked it before crashing into her familiar pillow, but as was to be expected, she had not missed any calls or texts from Quinn Fabray.

* * *

"Look, I'm not saying that you have to commit to anything. Just come with me for a little while, maybe an hour or two. This is the sort of opportunity that you could really benefit from," Michael pleaded, his hands folded in a begging gesture. Rachel rolled her eyes at his attempt to be adorable even though it was successful. Kurt had picked a winner, and one with an extremely convincing puppy dog face.

"Fine," Rachel caved. Michael's face burst into a grin that showed his winning smile and that just worried Rachel even more. "But…" she drawled, holding up a finger. "I'm only staying for an hour, no more. After that, I am out of there."

Michael was not phased by Rachel's unenthused response. In fact, he was already on his way out of Rachel's kitchen so that he could make a phone call, to his boyfriend no doubt, and had a little skip in his step. Rachel couldn't help but smile a little at his antics. Kurt had been trying to convince Rachel for two whole weeks to go to an event Michael had heard about through his work as a public relations manager for a local smalltime prop-making company that sometimes took special requests for Broadway plays and B-grade movies. The event was a cocktail hour designed for the executives of the company to meet new clients in the industry and apparently some big names from Broadway and some minor up-and-coming Hollywood workers would be in attendance.

Rachel had always wanted to be discovered for Broadway by casting agents who attended one of her shows, not through schmoozing at some fancy parlor with drinks that had those little straws in them. She also would have to go as Michael's plus one, thereby taking the spot away from Kurt. The last thing Rachel wanted was to take away a good opportunity for the two boys to spend some quality time, especially at an event that meant so much to Michael.

Rachel overheard Michael sharing the news with Kurt in his usual excited voice. He was only using half sentences, which was typical when he got excited. She took a deep breath and started mentally planning how this would all go over- what she would wear, what she would say to various types of people she might encounter, and how to make her exit.

* * *

It had been three weeks since Rachel's visit to Lima and the day of the cocktail was fast-approaching. In fact, it was only two short days away. Today Michael said he was bringing home a list of possible attendees. He'd been keeping a list of all the gossip about the event since it was likely to be a big breakthrough for his company. Rachel was already at his and Kurt's apartment, anxiously awaiting his arrival with Kurt. Kurt had gotten home early for the occasion since he knew it meant a lot to his boyfriend.

Rachel had thought about Quinn just about every day since her return to New York. For the first couple of days she still anxiously awaited that phone call from the blonde woman, but after a solid week of nothing, she gave up on ever hearing from her again. She would still wonder about her. Rachel would look at the clock on a particularly late night and wonder if Quinn was done stripping for the night. She would clench her fists at the thought that men were drooling over Quinn's sculpted body, over her toned legs and beautiful abs and captivating eyes.

Rachel would have to refocus her mind on things that mattered, things that she still had some sort of control over. Things like her friendships with Kurt and Michael.

Michael came through the door brandishing a sheet of paper with neatly printed names, some with descriptions after them, and others with question marks, and others crossed out.

"I think my gossip list is complete, considering there's only two days left," Michael said. He hurried over to put the list down on the kitchen table so Rachel and Kurt could pour over it, commenting on names of people and companies they recognized.

"Oh, is Rhonda Mancini really going to be there? She owns one of the best schools of dance ever!" Kurt commented with obvious interest. "I loved her costumes in her 2008 tap show."

"Yes, sweetie. And she's bringing along some of her top dancers. I couldn't get their names out of anyone at work, but you might recognize some of them," Michael responded. Rachel recognized a glint of something along the lines of disappointment in Kurt's eyes from the reminder that he wasn't going to be in attendance. "I'll be sure to get pictures taken with them for you," Michael added to placate Kurt. Rachel felt a wave of guilt lap at her feet.

Kurt realized that his boyfriend was placating him and changed his face to a smile. "You better. Actually, you both better. Rachel, dear, I want you to find the best-dressed and best-looking dancer there and have a picture taken with him or her. Oh, maybe you could even end up going out to lunch with one of them! And then we could double date and you could bring Michael and me around the studio whenever you decide to visit California…" Kurt trailed off, lost in his imaginative long-term planning.

Rachel and Michael exchanged a look and laughed. "Slow down, honey. Rachel hasn't even met this wonderful person you're describing, and she might not," Michael reminded his boyfriend gently. Kurt shrugged.

"You never know," he warned.

* * *

"Are you almost ready?" Kurt yelled as he banged on Rachel's apartment door. He had come to see the two of them off even though they were taking a taxi together to get to the party.

Rachel had been staring at herself in the mirror for the past fifteen minutes going through possible conversation topics and how to imply that she was interested in Broadway. So maybe she hadn't originally been interested in schmoozing, but who was she to pass up a good opportunity by being unprepared? Rachel Berry was always prepared.

She ran to open the door for Kurt and Michael, both of whom hugged her and complimented her choice of outfit- an elegant and short white dress with gold adornments complemented by red stilettos. In a matter of minutes, Michael and Rachel were in a taxi off to the cocktail party whilst Kurt was on his way back to his apartment.

Upon arriving to the party, Rachel thought she might have a panic attack. This could be it. She could meet someone here that could change her life completely, introducing something that would make her incomparably happy. Fulfill her dreams. Michael noticed her increased breathing and linked his arm in hers, leading her into the building. Now, Rachel had initially thought that her panic would only increase once she was inside and surrounded by people, but actually, that had the opposite affect; Rachel put on her best face, ready to impress anyone she had to.

"Michael! It's so good to see you here considering that rumor has it you're a big part of the reason for this event!" bellowed a short and rather portly man with smile lines and gray hair. Rachel instantly liked him.

Michael blushed at the compliment in the man's words. "Frankie, it's good to see you," Michael greeted. Frankie turned to apprise Rachel.

"And who, might I ask, is this fair lady? I was under the impression that you were usually to be found with that fashionable young lad Kurt," Frankie inquired gesturing to Rachel.

"My name is Rachel Berry, and it's a pleasure to meet you," Rachel introduced herself.

"I'm so sorry. I forgot to introduce the two of you. Rachel, this is Frankie, head of one of our biggest buyers- an off-Broadway showman," Michael introduced the portly man.

"Ah, I may not be so far off after all," Michael said with a wink and a chuckle. Rachel thought her heart might just about stop. This man was into show business and he was implying that he might be stepping it up to Broadway in the future. This was exactly the type of person Rachel was here to meet.

"Oh, really? Frankie, I would have expected you to tell me sooner so I could congratulate you!" Michael chastised lightly. "And if this is true, we should surely meet for dinner sometime to celebrate. And, if you wouldn't be opposed to the idea, Rachel could join us. She has a strong interest in Broadway, after all."

Rachel half wanted to lay a huge kiss on Michael's cheek for giving her an in like that, but the other half wanted to smack him for doing the schmoozing for her. She could get an in herself, dammit.

"But it's still all hush hush, you know how these things work," Frankie said. He was glancing at something just over Rachel's shoulder. "Oh, there's just the woman I wanted to see!" he called out, beckoning the woman over.

Rachel took in the woman's appearance. She was probably in her fifties but she retained that natural beauty and poise that some people were blessed with and had her hair pulled back in a tight bun. "Michael, Rachel, I would like for you to meet Madame Rhonda Mancini," Frankie introduced the poised woman.

Rachel could practically feel the excitement buzzing off of Michael. This woman was a legend. "It is always a good evening when you're around, Frankie," Rhona nodded with a light smile to Frankie. Unlike Frankie, she did not have many smile lines, but she did not have a particularly cruel appearance. "As for you two, any friend of Frankie's is a friend of mine."

"Rhonda Mancini… it is an honor to meet you," Michael said.

"I have heard only good things about you and your dancers," Rachel added, feeling as though Kurt was whispering in her ear to impress this influential woman.

Rhonda acknowledged their words with another small nod but did not respond verbally to the praise. Instead she said, "You should really meet my dancers. They are the future, not me."

Even if Michael, Rachel, or Frankie had wanted to object, they were left no choice because Rhonda had already began making her way through the crowd, leading the three toward a group of young men and woman chatting next to the refreshment bar.

Rachel looked at the group and her eyes were immediately drawn to a fairly tall blonde woman in the group. "Brittany?" Rachel called out in shock.

Sure enough, the blonde turned around with wide eyes and a smile split open on her face. "Rachel!" she exclaimed, running toward the smaller girl and embracing her tightly. Rachel was fairly certain she heard Michael swearing under his breath, though not angrily.

"Brittany? You know this friend of Frankie's?" Rhonda asked. At the sound of her instructor's voice, Brittany released her hold on Rachel.

"Yes, Madame. Rachel and I went to high school together and were in the same Glee club. I mostly just danced, but Rachel has a voice prettier than a bird's," Brittany explained in a bubbly voice. Rhonda examined Rachel with interest, as did Frankie, and the latter turned to Michael.

"My dear boy, you didn't say that Rachel could sing. All you said was that she had interest in Broadway," Frankie said. Michael opened his mouth to explain himself, but he was cut off by Frankie grabbing him by the arm to guide him away, involving him in deep conversation that Rachel could no longer hear because of distance.

"I didn't know you'd be here. I mean, I knew Michael would be since last time I saw Kurt he told me his boyfriend worked for the company hosting this, but I didn't think I'd get to see you! You know, you never did call me for coffee. Which is fine because I don't like coffee anyway. It tastes so bitter. Can we have hot chocolate together instead? Maybe we could even snuggle! Hot chocolate is a snuggle drink," Brittany chattered on happily. Rhonda seemed to be done with the current conversation and had moved on to check in with her other dancers.

Rachel was starting to feel overwhelmed again. The room's noise level suddenly seemed like everyone was screaming. Every color blended together into a large watercolor of life, one that was just too bright for her eyes. Just when she was starting to sway in time to the rhythm this whole display was creating for her, Brittany reached out to steady her arm.

"Hey, Rach, are you okay?" Brittany asked with concern filling her voice. But Rachel was too entranced by the display of loud sounds and colors displayed all around her that she barely registered the blonde dancer's words. When she failed to respond, Brittany wrapped an arm around her waist and started leading her through the crowd. Rachel felt much like she was dancing and her vision started going black around the edges.

Brittany closed the door behind them once they reached a coatroom that had been filled but still had ample space for the two of them. She made Rachel sit down on the floor and crouched beside her.

"Rachel. Are your ears working yet?" Brittany asked, her brow furrowed with worry. Rachel blinked a few times, focusing on regaining focus.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sorry. I… I got a little overwhelmed out there. I suppose the stress of being in this environment is not conducive to overall mental well-being, especially when combined with all the memories brought back by seeing you and thinking about Lima and everyone there," Rachel said, forcing herself to take slow and deep breaths.

"Were you having a… a… picnic attack?" Brittany asked seriously. Rachel held in her giggling.

"Panic attack, yes, I believe so," Rachel replied. Brittany nodded.

"A girl got those sometimes when we both had just started training under Madame Rhonda. She gets us all really good jobs, but she can be kinda like Sue Sylvester sometimes," Brittany confessed.

Everything clicked in Rachel's head. Quinn had told her that Brittany had moved to California for a job- that must have been to work under Rhonda Mancini. Michael hadn't even known that Brittany would be coming because he hadn't heard any of the dancers' names.

"Brittany…I'm sorry for never calling you when I said I would while we were both in Lima," Rachel apologized. Brittany just blinked and tilted her head.

"I never expected you to," the dancer replied. That stung Rachel a little and made her breath catch. Brittany had always been brutally honest, rarely meaning to harm, rather just stating things how she perceived them. The fact that Brittany never expected Rachel to actually call her hurt because it showed how little faith the blonde dancer had in her. Rachel felt that sense of failure creeping in again.

"You weren't meant to. We never really had any problems in high school. That was you and Quinn." There Brittany were being perceptive again. Oh, if only Brittany knew how connected her two observations were.

The two were silent for a short while. Brittany started humming a tune that Rachel didn't recognize, but she was happy to just listen.

"Thank you for rescuing me, Brittany," Rachel said at last. That seemed to happily surprise the other woman.

"Sure! It's only fair since I never did before, you know, at McKinley. I always just went along with San and Q. But they didn't always do the right things," Brittany said sadly. Rachel instantly regretted any time in history that she had called this girl dumb, even just in her mind. Today alone would be enough to prove that Brittany wasn't dumb, she just had a different way of thinking.

"That's fine. High school is over now and you're not taking orders from Quinn or Santana or Sue anymore," Rachel pointed out. Brittany grinned at this.

"Sometimes I don't even do what Rhonda wants," Brittany whispered as if the coats would overhear her and spill her secrets to the rest of the party.

The two stayed in the closet for a few more minutes, just talking about their jobs and general life, staying away from any sort of sticky topics. After a little bit, Rachel stood up and made for the door.

"Oh, before I go, I need to get my picture with you," Rachel said.

"Why's that?" Brittany asked.

"Because Kurt told me to find the best-looking dancer and take a picture with them." Brittany beamed at her and the two walked out of the coat closet together, completely ignoring the strange looks they got from some of the other attendees.

**A/N: First semester is done! WOOOOO! I even got through it with what is currently a 3.8 GPA, though I'm still waiting on one more class to put in a grade. The good news for you people is that I should be able to update more now that I'm home for the next month.**

**I have a fairly solid back story in place that will be revealed as the story goes on. I promise you will learn why Quinn dropped out of Yale, why she started stripping, more about her past relationship with Santana (and the why for that), and all of that. Next chapter should see a little into Brittany's history with Santana as well as more on Quinn.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! If it wasn't for your feedback, I wouldn't be able to keep writing.**


	7. Chapter 7

Rachel sent Michael a text that told him not to wait up for her because she was going out with Brittany. The two women left immediately after getting their picture taken together. Brittany was staying in a hotel only a couple blocks away, so the two walked there and stopped in the lobby to pick up some hot chocolate that was being served and then rode the elevator up to Brittany's room.

"Wow, you must do fairly well financially working for Rhonda because these hotel accommodations are splendid," Rachel commented. Brittany shrugged.

"I'm just happy they have free hot chocolate in the lobby. It even had the cute little midget marshmallows!" Brittany squealed, swirling said sugary objects around in her drink.

The two sat at the table in the small kitchenette area in the hotel room, each taking a few sips. "You want to ask me something," Brittany stated. There was no question in her tone.

"I guess I do," Rachel responded rather than to question how the other woman knew. When it came to Brittany, Rachel had come to accept that just rolling with it was really the best way to do things; Brittany was anything but conventional. "I was wondering what happened between you and Santana. You two always seemed so… Well, you seemed destined to make it even after high school."

"That's not a question," Brittany observed. Rachel opened her mouth to correct her words, to actually phrase a question. "But I can tell you that story if you want."

Rachel nodded and Brittany started talking about how she and Santana had formed a solid relationship right after graduation, how they'd promised they'd go anywhere with each other. Rachel listened and sighed silently, comparing the story to how she'd felt about Finn. In high school, everything had seemed so easy. So many people had their match, and that was simply who they were going to end up with, or so it seemed at the time.

"She promised me we'd be married one day. She didn't believe in engagement rings, but I came home the next day with two plastic ones from the store. She cried. I'm not sure why, they were only plastic," Brittany explained, pausing at this point as if reliving the confusion all over again.

"What broke you two apart? From the sounds of it, your relationship was functional and moderately healthy and… happy," Rachel prompted.

Brittany lost the look of confusion and instead appeared saddened by the memory. "It started around the same time as I got the job interview with Madame Rhonda. San was in her last year of medical school. It was my birthday and she got me cat slippers. And duck socks. And…" Brittany stopped herself when she caught Rachel's expectant expression. "And I told her that California would be so warm that I might not even need the slippers. She thought I didn't like the slippers at first, and then the next couple weeks she would say things about how she didn't really want to go to California. We got into a fight the day of her graduation and she told me I wasn't invited to the ceremony anymore, which is a shame because I like watching people throw their hats. It's like birds that don't know how to fly because they fall right back down to the ground." She paused. "I think San's a bird that doesn't know how to fly. She didn't know how to follow me to California. Anyway, she went out that night and got drunk and didn't come home until really late. The next morning she admitted she had sexy times with another girl while she was drunk. I was so angry that I told her to leave. A few days later I called her, but she never picked up. I left her a message that I forgave her a few weeks later, but she never answered. I haven't talked to her since."

Rachel took in everything that Brittany had just said. It was probably the longest speech she'd ever heard the dancer make and the least childish. Sometimes Rachel forgot that Brittany really was an adult, just like her, even though she may seem like a child sometimes with her love of small animals and lower vocabulary and tendency to not know what words meant.

She didn't know how to respond right away, so she spent time trying to take sips of her hot chocolate without getting any marshmallows, not because she didn't like them, but just because it gave her something to do.

"I think she's punishing herself. I told her she could come back and I know she got those messages. San has always tried to punish herself when she hurts me. She thinks that'll protect me," Brittany mused.

"I think you're right," Rachel agreed. There was a question she was itching to ask- had Brittany kept up at all with Quinn? Did she know that apparently Santana had been in a relationship with Quinn? Did she even know that Quinn was gay? Was Quinn single? Okay, so she wanted to ask a lot of questions, all of them centering around Quinn.

"Rachel… I saw you talking to San at the party after Finn's wedding to the bird girl," Brittany said. Rachel laughed at Brittany's nickname for Addy because Finn's new wife really did have a sort of bird-like face. Brittany seemed unperturbed by her laughter. "Did she… What did you talk about?"

Rachel thought about it for a moment. The first thing that came to her mind was that she'd gone through Santana's phone, but she didn't want to admit that to Brittany because then she'd have to explain why. Plus, that wasn't what Brittany was looking for. Brittany wanted to know if Santana had mentioned her.

"Yes," Rachel answered. Brittany's face screwed up in confusion and Rachel realized that she had answered the inquiry Rachel had been thinking of in her head, not the one Brittany had asked aloud. "I mean… we talked about you a little. She was obviously still very in love with you. And we talked about Quinn a little." Rachel couldn't help but add that little line about Quinn onto the end of her answer. She was obsessed with finding out more about the blonde goddess that had turned to stripping for reasons unknown.

"So she still wants me… but she won't have me," Brittany summarized adequately. Rachel gave Brittany's arm a comforting pat. It must be an incredibly difficult situation to be in. "She and Quinn are just so much alike," Brittany sighed. At this, Rachel perked up almost visibly.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked carefully. She didn't want to sound too interested, but she couldn't help but ask.

Brittany's face turned to stone. "I can't explain. Santana told me when I try to explain it doesn't make any sense."

Rachel thought fast. She couldn't lose this opportunity to learn more about Quinn from someone who knew her so well. "You could try. I'm usually quite good at interpreting words as long as I have ample information."

Brittany slowly nodded. "Well, they both could have so much, but they just take what they have," she replied. "The only difference is that Quinn is trying for something now. I don't know about Santana."

At that, Rachel felt even more alive. She was getting somewhere with this. "What do you mean? What is it that Quinn is working toward?"

Brittany took another long drink of her hot chocolate before setting down the mug on the table. "Can you stay here tonight, Rach? I don't want to be alone in New York," Brittany asked, switching topics like lightning. Rachel, caught off guard, didn't even know how to begin to tackle that question. "It's almost midnight by now and I can let you borrow some sleep clothes," Brittany pressed.

Rachel checked her phone for the time and sure enough, it was getting late. She sent a quick text to Michael letting him know that she was with Brittany still and would be for the night. "Sure," she responded to the dancer with a smile that was returned tenfold.

* * *

After their hot chocolate was finished, Brittany led Rachel into the bedroom of the hotel and handed her a set of pajamas with little cats sleeping on clouds on them. Rachel wondered if they too, like Brittany's slippers, had been a gift from Santana. The diva felt her heart breaking once more for the split couple that had so much hope in her heart at one point in time. After she'd changed in the bathroom, she returned to the bedroom and saw Brittany already in the bed.

"Would it be okay if we shared? I promise I won't kick or steal the covers," Brittany asked, her eyes hopeful. How could Rachel say no to that? So, despite not ever being close to the girl, Rachel found herself lying next to Brittany in bed.

"I haven't talked to Quinn in… three years. But I know she dropped out of Yale and one of the reasons was because her mom took away her college fund and without it she couldn't afford to stay," Brittany whispered as the two of them were cuddled up together in Brittany's rented bed. Rachel had not asked, but she assumed Brittany knew she was wondering about Quinn. She also hadn't told Brittany that she already knew Quinn had dropped out because then she'd have to admit meeting up with Quinn recently.

Rachel took in a deep breath. She should have been expecting something along those lines. "Why? What made them start fighting again?"

"Go to sleep, Rachel. That's something for Quinn to talk about, not me," Brittany said quietly, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around the smaller woman. "And she would not like me telling you even what I've already said."

Rachel pondered what Brittany had said. She wanted to know more, desperately wanted, but she could not ask. She could already hear Brittany's breathing slowing down as she descended into sleep.

* * *

The next day, Rachel woke up from a dream about Quinn that slipped away from her as she awoke. It's funny how to grasp onto consciousness one must often let dreams out of their grasp. She turned slightly to see a woman with blonde hair snuggled up next to her and, for just a moment, she mistook her for Quinn. But no, Rachel had fallen asleep next to Brittany, not Quinn.

Before hailing a cab back to her apartment, Rachel slipped out of bed and put back on the clothes she'd worn the day before, all without waking Brittany. She left a note telling the blonde dancer thank you and that she would see her again soon. Rachel had barely gotten out of her shower at home when her cell phone started ringing- Kurt was calling.

"Hello?" Rachel answered it.

"_Rachel! There are so many things we have to talk about! I'll get to how you totally ditched Michael later, but first, your picture with Brittany has been posted in a lot of important blogs about the event. They've labeled Brittany as one of Rhonda Mancini's best dancers and you as an unknown possible future starlet. Rumors are already flying around about your Broadway dreams, sweetheart_," Kurt gushed.

Rachel's heart was pounding in her ears. This was surely what dreams sounded like as they became reality. There was a slight echo, a little memory she'd preserved from high school, ringing in her head- the sound of an audience's thunderous applause, the audience from Nationals. That was what she lived for. She realized her side of the phone had been dead for a while.

"_Hello? Rachel? This is good news! I had no idea Brittany was one of Rhonda's. Or that Michael's friend Frankie was making the move up to the big leagues. You met some important players last night. Soon enough you'll be listed as the attendee at these events, not just the plus one!_" Kurt continued his enthusiasm. He continued on and Rachel could only contribute occasional small phrases of agreement and excitement. She was honestly utterly shocked by how well the whole event had gone for her. She realized that Kurt had completely forgotten to eat her out for ditching his boyfriend at the cocktail party.

"Thank you for telling me, Kurt, and I'd love to go out for dinner to celebrate, like you mentioned, but I really have to go. I need some time to process this victory," Rachel said, kindly letting him hang up.

Once the line went dead, she didn't drop her phone, rather just standing there in her bedroom with a slow smile taking over her face. Nothing could ruin this day, nothing could take away her excitement. She just needed to share it with more people. Barely even thinking, Rachel lifted her finger to speed dial her fathers. Before she could do so, she realized she'd missed a text while she was on the phone with Kurt.

**Rising starlet, huh? I guess your high school dreams aren't as far off as you thought. –Quinn**

Rachel's grin grew larger, if that was at all possible. She abandoned the idea of calling her fathers and instead dialed Quinn's number. She didn't want to have this conversation over text. Also, Quinn had finally reached out to her after weeks of hearing nothing! That was something to be celebrated not just through a few words exchanged visually alone, but through the wonderful music of each other's voices.

"_I_ _guess you couldn't wait to scream in my ear about this_," Quinn answered her phone. Rachel could practically hear the smirk in her voice. She didn't care one bit.

"I should be offended that you believe me incapable of containing my emotions," Rachel tried to huff, but it came out more like a sigh.

"_Wait, you mean you can control them? Well, this is awkward; I thought I was on the phone with Rachel Berry. I'm so sorry for the confusion_," Quinn snarked. At that, Rachel really did huff.

"I'll have you know that as an excellent actor I happen to be quite in control of my emotions when I need to be," Rachel complained. She imagined Quinn's skeptical look, that one with her eyebrow raised slightly and the side of her mouth upturned.

There was silence on the line for a beat as Quinn tried to let Rachel think she was being serious. "_I know, I know. Don't get your panties in a knot. I contacted you for two reasons- one, I'm proud of you for the progress you're making. And two- I'm sorry for how badly we left things when you were in Lima_," Quinn returned to using a serious voice.

Rachel nodded even though she knew Quinn couldn't see the motion. "I'm sorry about that too. It really was my fault- I was way out of line. I crossed boundaries that I shouldn't even cross with my closest of friends, and I've barely even known you, recently anyhow."

Her words from that night rang through her head: "_**You're Quinn Fabray. You tear out the hearts of men and glare so icily that it makes people wet themselves**_."

"_You did. But I'm used to people crossing boundaries that I'm not ready to have crossed. If no one ever crossed my boundaries, I'd never so much as look most people in the eye or ever speak to them_," Quinn said, her tone turning joking at the end. It made Rachel smile.

"You're not _that _bad," Rachel replied, but Quinn just chuckled.

"_I lied earlier. I wanted to talk to you for three reasons, but I wasn't sure I was going to get to the last one_," Quinn started tentatively. Rachel waited. "_I'll be in New York next weekend with Santana. She's been invited to a conference about a new set of medical procedures or something and she wanted company, so… Anyway, I wanted to know if you'd like to see me when I'm in the city, you know, to make up for last time we met? And the time before that_."

"We haven't done well so far, have we?" Rachel mused. Quinn just gave a sigh of agreement. "I would love to see you! Just send me a text when you get here and I can show you around the city a little bit."

"_I'd love that too_," Quinn agreed.

The two hung up shortly after and Rachel couldn't quite get the smile off of her face for the rest of the day.

* * *

**A/N: First of all, I want to address a comment I got from an anonymous reviewer: **"How is it that Quinn is a drop out stripper but Rachel is the one who seems to come off so pathetic?"

**That's exactly the point. This story will not portray Quinn as pathetic because she's a dropout stripper. She's an incredibly strong woman and never let anything bring her down, not teen pregnancy, not her parent's divorce, not the constant push for perfection. And Rachel… she always was solid in her dreams, but without them, she really doesn't have much to cling onto. Now, I'm not saying that is a bad thing, but that's just part of this story. Just thought I should clear that up :)**

**As always, reviews are good for my soul. Next- will Rachel's career start to launch? How will Rachel deal with meeting up with Quinn again... and Santana?**


	8. Chapter 8

"Calm down, would you? It's not like you're meeting the President," Kurt said, chasing Rachel around her room in an attempt to placate her by patting her on the arm.

"Or his wife. She's an amazing dresser," Michael added. Kurt nodded in his boyfriend's direction.

"You are _so_ right," Kurt agreed. Rachel hadn't explained just how she ended up talking to Quinn recently since she felt obligated to keep Quinn's job a secret. She had just told Kurt that Quinn had contacted her to congratulate her with making a headline and informed her that she and Santana were coming up to visit.

"I don't think you understand. I am meeting up with the two most popular girls from our high school, both of which used to torment me for what I wore and how inappropriately I acted for the complex social situation that is high school," Rachel explained, throwing a sweater over her shoulder that failed to meet her standards. Her room looked a bit like a fashion war zone- many casualties ended up on the floor, bed, or desk.

Kurt plucked the sweater off of his shoulder and placed it on the bed with disdain clearly written across his face. "Sweetie, this isn't high school anymore. And these two girls that you're meeting for lunch? They aren't much of anything anymore- just people. They're not going to… slushie you or try to steal your boyfriend," Kurt countered, putting a certain sarcastic emphasis on the last part, referring to the fact that Rachel hasn't had a boyfriend in a while. Most of the times her dates were a one time sort of deal.

Rachel shot her friend a glare so he'd know that she did catch what he was doing there and didn't appreciate it. "That may be, but it does not mean that I do not wish to impress them or show them a good time while they are in New York, the very place I have been telling them I would live since I met them."

Michael laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Perhaps we should give her a few minutes," he suggested lightly. Kurt let out an exaggerated sigh.

"She's such a drama queen," Kurt complained. Michael snorted lightly.

"Pot? Kettle? Black?" Michael said. Kurt made an unintelligible noise but followed his boyfriend out of Rachel's bedroom anyway, closing the door behind him and leaving Rachel alone with her own madness.

Now alone, Rachel ripped through her clothes once more, stressing over making the correct fashion decision. She did not want to give Santana any more bait than usual to tease her with.

* * *

Half an hour later, Rachel was on her way out her door and walking four blocks to get to her favorite coffee shop where she'd told Quinn and Santana to meet her. When she walked in the door, the two had not arrived yet, but that wasn't a surprise. Rachel had told them to be there at one o'clock and it was still ten minutes before. She ordered a coffee and sat down at her favorite table- one in the corner by the window so she could people-watch if she wanted to, creating stories in her mind for every person that walked by. Or, in this case, she could see when Quinn and Santana were arriving.

A couple minutes after one, the pair walked into the coffee shop. Rachel waved as they came in and waited for them to order some coffee before greeting them.

"Hey, Berry, I gotta say, I'm liking your city so far," Santana greeted. It wasn't much of a hello, but it was miles above what Rachel was used to.

"It's nice to see you again, Santana," Rachel responded with a smile before turning to Quinn.

Quinn was wearing a red leather jacket with a simple white shirt under it and a pair of jeans. It was weird for Rachel to see the girl in casual clothes still even though she had been in casual clothes the last couple of time the two had seen each other. "Hey, Rachel," Quinn greeted her. Rachel felt her heart get excited at the fact that she and Quinn were back on speaking terms despite their awkward ending last time. She had always tried to be Quinn's friend, and here they were… plus Santana.

"Quinn, it's good to see you again," Rachel replied, her smile growing into a grin. Santana looked between the two of them.

"Not to break up the eye sex or what evs, but… actually, that was exactly what I wanted to do," Santana said. Quinn shot her friend a glare.

"See, this is why our relationship didn't work out. You can't appreciate sweet little moments, even just between friends," Quinn chastised. Rachel knew that Santana was gauging her reaction to this statement, so Rachel kept her face even. Santana probably wanted to see if Rachel would freak out at the fact that Quinn was gay, or that Quinn had been in a relationship with Santana at one point.

"Shut up. I was the hottest girlfriend you ever had," Santana countered. Rachel almost felt like she was invading at this point with all the light teasing going on between the other two. But Quinn saved her from any potential awkwardness with her next statement.

"Santana has always had a big head. I think that's why she got that boob job- to counterbalance her enormous head," Quinn said, stage-whispering to Rachel, who laughed in response.

Santana looked indignant. "I do not have a big head. You're just jealous of my full hair."

"Isn't it true that you have enough hair to hide razor blades in there?" Rachel commented with amusement, remembering that being mentioned in high school. "Though, I must admit, hiding razor blades in your hair sounds to me completely impractical and painful."

Santana rolled her eyes. "That's not the point. The point was to threaten someone, not to make sense with what would be most practical. I had to get my Lima Heights on."

"You can't still be pretending anywhere in Lima is even _close_ to the ghetto," Quinn sighed. Rachel smiled, remembering Santana's various threats that included her referencing the neighborhood where she grew up. Rachel was glad that these two were able to joke about events that happened in high school.

The three of them went on talking about high school and their current lives for a little while. Rachel learned that Santana had gone on to become a doctor, working in Columbus. Quinn didn't talk about her job, but she did plenty of talking still. Rachel told them about her various jobs she'd picked up and how she was currently working in a music store selling musical instruments and sheet music. She also described how exactly she'd gone about meeting Madame Rhonda and Frankie, even mentioning that Brittany was there. She studied Santana's face as she told this story, but the Latina did not look surprised. Rachel found it safe to assume that she already knew Brittany was in attendance.

After a short while, they got on the topic of sexuality. It was odd how something that had been so secretive and controversial in high school was now just plain conversation between the three of them.

"How about you, Berry? I know you aren't bringing down the rainbow flag, but have you dipped your feet in the pool of homo yet?" Santana asked. Quinn rolled her eyes but didn't seem offended by Santana's rather crass question as to what Rachel's sexuality was.

"I've found myself to have fairly consistently heterosexual leanings, but I have always considered my sexuality to be fluid," Rachel answered, perhaps exaggerating how straight she was by a little bit. She'd dated almost as many women as men in recent years, though none had exactly worked out.

"Yeah? Well, I always considered myself to be straight until one day I woke up and the Gay Fairy had visited overnight," Quinn replied.

"Let me guess- rainbow wand," Santana said, pointing at her blonde friend.

"Spewed sparkles and all," Quinn confirmed.

"Knew it," Santana smirked, snapping her fingers.

"So you became gay overnight?" Rachel inquired, trying to reinsert herself into the conversation that had taken a turn for the ridiculous.

"No, idiota, it's called sarcasm. There's no such thing as a Gay Fairy," Santana scoffed. Rachel let out a groan of frustration.

"I'd beg to differ…" Quinn mumbled. "All fairies are gay." Santana sniggered at Quinn's joke but Rachel shook her head back and forth a few times.

"I caught onto that part being sarcasm. I meant the overnight part of the anecdote," Rachel

"I was kidding, Rachel." Quinn said softly, reaching out to place a hand on Rachel's arm. The singer relaxed instantly at the touch.

"Right. I suppose no one really accepts their sexuality in the span of one night, after all. It is an involved mental process that can take some people many months or even years to truly come to terms with," Rachel said. Quinn removed her hand from Rachel's arm and Rachel almost told her to put it back. It was calming, after all.

The three of them returned to drinking coffee- their second by now. "You know, I never quite did hear the story of how you two started talking again," Santana said slowly. Rachel froze midway through a dip of coffee. She was hoping dearly that this conversation did not come up, and she'd hoped even more so that Santana already knew how the two old nemesis's had met up again.

Quinn placed her coffee cup down lightly and sat up ramrod straight in her chair. For a moment, Rachel was reminded of the Quinn that was president of the Celibacy Club and went to church every week with her parents and held the air of superiority over the rest of the school.

"Rachel ran into me one night at work," Quinn answered delicately. Santana's eyes bulged.

"You mean… your work?" she questioned. Quinn gave a barely there nod to confirm. Santana visibly swallowed, taking in that little bit of information and turning to Rachel.

"So, you were at a strip club? I guess you were lying about being mostly straight then, weren't you?" Santana said in a clipped sort of tone that put Rachel on edge. Gone was the jovial version of Santana that she'd been drinking coffee and laughing with moments ago like they were old friends. The air seemed harder to breathe in at this point- less tranquil and more volatile.

"I… was meeting up with Puck. He picked the place," Rachel stumbled through her defense. She wasn't going to say that she hadn't been lying about her sexuality because, really, Santana was close to spot on there.

At that, Santana turned sharply to Quinn. "Did you tell Puck where you worked?" she asked, completely ignoring Rachel in favor of the blonde now.

Quinn took a few seconds. "No. But he did know the, ah, nature of my profession. It's completely possible that he's been looking for me," she replied, her voice containing a razor sharp element, like the edge of a broken piece of glass. It was sharp and dangerous, but it was also partially broken.

Santana whirled on Rachel. "I don't care what you say about Puck picking the place. So what if you happened to show up at the right place at the right time? Quinn never would have come up to talk to you afterwards. That means you followed her. This is your doing, and I don't like it one bit."

Rachel had to force herself to stay seated as the Hispanic girl berated her, pointing at her maliciously. She could hear a slight accent creeping into her words like it did when she was feeling particularly impassioned, and Rachel did not want to be on the other side of the table from her anymore. Quinn stood up.

"Maybe it's best that we leave," Quinn suggested firmly, yanking on Santana and forcing her to stand up. Santana glanced at Quinn before shrugging her off.

"I'm warning you. Me va a terminar, ¿me oyes? Si le haces daño aunque sea un poco, voy a cortar tu corazón y servir la cena a mis gatos," Santana spoke quickly in Spanish. Quinn tapped her arm again and the Latina stormed out of the coffee shop. Quinn followed but turned back to mouth "sorry" at Rachel.

To top it all off, Rachel was left with the bill.

* * *

Rachel walked back to her apartment numbly, trying to think of what she did wrong this time. It seemed that every time she saw Quinn, the situation blew up and ended with pieces scattered, and the next time, just as the two of them started to put those pieces back together, another explosion came. This meeting for a lunchtime coffee was no exception.

Kurt and Michael had left, like usual, after she had. They were in the habit of visiting her apartment before she went anywhere important- an audition, a date, lunch with Quinn. It had all started because Kurt used to always visit her dorm room before anything important, like a test or an audition, since they lived in the same dorm. Then, once Rachel had moved into her own apartment after graduating and Kurt started dating Michael, the two of them continued the tradition by visiting her at home.

Now that she was alone, she sat down to contemplate just how things had gotten off track. Santana had asked how Rachel and Quinn met up and found the answer to be at the strip club. Rachel was guessing that Santana figured that Rachel was going to hurt Quinn, and Rachel was assuming that the Latina had been threatening her when she had spoken to her in Spanish. It was a tad bit ironic to think that Santana was trying to protect Quinn from Rachel when in the past it had been Rachel trying to protect herself from Quinn and Santana. The world had certainly gone topsy-turvy.

Rachel turned on the television to the news, not wanting to think about anything on this disappointing Saturday afternoon.

That is, until her phone rang and had Quinn's name on the caller ID.

"Hello?" Rachel answered. She sat on the edge of her couch, tentatively hopeful.

"_Hey, Rachel. I wanted to call to apologize for what happened at lunch. Santana is a bit like an overprotective pit bull_," Quinn said on the other side of the phone.

Rachel let out a sigh of relief. "It's fine. She was just trying to look out for you, I'm sure."

Quinn made a soft noise. "_Right. If it makes you feel any better, her bark is much worse than her bite_."

"Really? Because I remember things a little differently. Didn't she throw you into a locker before?" Rachel remembered aloud. Quinn just laughed at that.

"_She started smaller, but I fought back. It was only fair_," Quinn countered. "_But back to what happened today, let me make it up to you. Is there anyway I could see you tonight? Without Santana_," she clarified.

Rachel thought quickly of what her plans were. Unless she counted going over the song she was going to sing for her next audition for the five hundredth time, she was free. "Why don't you come over to my apartment tonight after dinner? We can just talk about things, maybe have a glass of wine," Rachel suggested. She secretly didn't want to be out in public on the chance that the situation exploded like it had already several times. Rachel and Quinn were volatile elements that when mixed created a violent chemical reaction. She wasn't sure if it was an entirely bad reaction.

"_Sure, sounds great. Is around eight alright with you_?" Quinn asked.

"Absolutely," Rachel replied. After the two hung up, she had to find ways to distract herself until eight. No matter how many times she failed to have a calm meeting with Quinn, she always craved the next one.

* * *

**A/N: The Spanish translates to: ****I will end you, do you hear me? If you hurt her even a little, I will cut your heart out and serve it for dinner to my cats.**

**Next chapter has Rachel and Quinn in Rachel's apartment talking. It also contains a flashback to Quinn's college days as she lets Rachel into her life a little. Oh, and as you've read in this chapter, Quinn and Santana are no longer together. I've gotten reviews about that; this is a Faberry story, not Quintanna, but that was a stage in Quinn's life.**


	9. Chapter 9

They were sitting in Rachel's apartment, trying to think of what to say.

Quinn had brought some money with her to pay Rachel back for the coffee bill that she was stuck with and Rachel had then poured each of them a glass of wine, but that left them at the actual talking part of the night.

"I don't want this to be so… broken. In high school, we would always sort of come together, almost fix things, but then it would fall apart all over again. I know that when you gave me those train tickets you were trying to fix things once and for all, and I failed us that time, never using them. I threw them in the back of my drawer, telling myself I'd never use them because you weren't worth my time, not with how many times you tore me down in high school. I was headed for Broadway, and you were headed for…" Rachel trailed off, horrified that she was about to go in such an awful direction, that she was being so honest.

"A strip joint?" Quinn chuckled. Rachel relaxed once she saw that Quinn was taking it in stride.

"Well… I didn't really want to say that," Rachel confessed meekly. Quinn shook her head softly.

"I want you to be honest. But if I want you to be honest, I guess it's only fair that I'm honest with you first. What do you want to know? Ask me anything," Quinn offered. "Anything that doesn't have to do with why I ended up stripping or why I dropped out of Yale. I promise I'll tell you that one day, but I'm just not ready for that yet," Quinn added as a caveat. Rachel was curious about the limitations placed since Brittany had already told her why Quinn had dropped out of Yale. But maybe there was more to that story.

Rachel's head swirled with all of the questions she'd love to ask Quinn Fabray. She wanted to know this girl inside and out, and here she was given an opportunity to learn something just as easily as asking a question.

Before she'd really decided on a question, her mouth blurted one out anyway.

"So… how exactly did you end up with Santana anyway?" Rachel asked. She knew it was a question that could quite possibly have a long and complicated answer, but she wanted to try to understand. She wanted to know as much as possible about the woman in front of her- her history, her reasons, and how her brain turned. So, this wasn't exactly her ideal first question, but it would suffice.

Quinn gave a long sigh and leaned back in her chair. "I was dating a guy at the time. His name was Trey, and he was really a nice guy. He was on the track team and his frat threw some awesome parties. I had Santana over for the weekend and I was talking to her about certain… feelings I was having for Trey's older sister Tracie. She went to Yale too, year above us. Santana and I went off-campus for a karaoke night…"

**FLASHBACK**

"I'll go first," Santana said with a smirk that Quinn felt uneasy about. Santana had a hushed conversation with the DJ running the karaoke machine and he nodded, turning to his table to put on the song.

"_You sit there in your, heartache  
Waitin' on some beautiful boy to  
To save you from your old ways  
You play forgiveness, watch it now, here he comes_"

Quinn's breath caught in her throat. She knew exactly where this was going. She knew the Killer's song well and considering the conversation she'd just been having with her best friend, she could guess the context.

"_He doesn't look a thing like Jesus  
But he, talks like a gentleman  
Like you imagined when you, were young_"

Santana's eyes captured hers and didn't let them go as she sang words that pierced Quinn's heart- not with hurt, but with understanding. Trey was far from innocent, yes, especially if she considered how much alcohol was consumed at his parties, but he was what she'd imagined when she was just a little girl, dreaming of a Prince Charming that would help her make sense of herself.

"_Can we climb this mountain, I don't know  
Higher now than ever before  
I, know we can make it if we take it slow  
Let's take it easy, easy now, watch it go!"_

Quinn tried to break her gaze from Santana, but she couldn't help it as she took in the sight of the Hispanic girl moving forward on the stage with the mic in her hand, belting out the last three words with an intense expression on her face.

"_We're burnin' down the highway skyline  
On the back of a hurricane, that started turnin'  
When we, were young  
When we, were young_"

Santana used the word "we" instead of you in that verse, something that confused Quinn for a moment until she started to think about it. Santana was trying to communicate to her that they both had similar expectations when they were young, expectations that may have been fine and good, but they just weren't realistic.

"_And sometimes you close your eyes  
And see the place where you used to live  
When you, were young_"

Quinn tried closing her eyes to picture Lima, to picture her house as she'd seen it as a little girl. It used to seem like a mansion of paradise, like the castle for a princess. As she grew up, she realized that the castle she'd dreamed up was guarded by a dragon. That dragon was the expectations she faced as she grew- the expectations of being as close to perfection as the cruel world she lived in would let her.

"_They say the Devil's water, it ain't so sweet  
You don't have to drink right now  
But you can dip your feet  
Every once in a, little while_"

The Devil's water… Santana winked as she said that part and Quinn had a feeling Santana was talking about not being straight, about liking girls. With that context, the song started taking on an entirely new meaning. Now the verse sounded more like Santana convincing her to embrace her sexuality, maybe not right in the moment, and maybe not all at once, but to not hide that part of who she is.

"_You sit there in your, heartache  
Waitin' on some beautiful boy to  
To save you from your old ways  
You play forgiveness, watch it now, here he come  
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus  
But he, talks like a gentleman  
Like you imagined when you, were young, talks like a gentleman  
Like you imagined when, when you, were young_"

Santana was telling her that she was waiting on a boy to fix her, to save her from that dragon of expectations. But this boy she was with, Trey, he didn't hold all the answers. Neither did Finn, Puck, or Sam. None of them could sweep her off her feet and help her ride into the sunset. None of them was her Messiah.

"_I said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus  
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus  
But more than you'll ever know_…"

Santana finished with that last line, slowing it down as if putting emphasis on every word of that last line. There was something more to that line. Quinn took a deep breath and ran out of the building, trying to get as far away from the girl who knew so much about her. She felt het face wetting with tears and at first glanced to the sky to see if it was raining. But no, the droplets falling down her face were of her own making, not nature's. She ran without any regard for the fact that Santana was visiting her at Yale and therefore had no where else to go but with her. She also paid no attention to the approaching thunderous footfalls of Santana running to catch up with her.

"Quinn!" Santana yelled out. Quinn did not turn around and did not slow down. She just kept running, all the while thanking Sue in her mind for making her run so many suicides that she'd gotten in good running shape. She actually enjoyed running, at least as far as exercising went, and had kept up with it in college. Quinn found herself thanking Sue to be a frightful, yet apt, experience. That woman had scared the shit out of her in high school and right now she was frightened as well, only this time it was of herself.

The one thing Quinn did not even think about was that Santana had also kept up with the vigorous fitness that Sue had instilled in her Cheerios. In fact, ever since Santana and Brittany had broken up, Santana had only been pushing herself harder. By the time Quinn had made it to a closed down pizza shop, Santana had caught up to her. Now, Santana knew Quinn well, and as such she knew that just catching up to Quinn wouldn't be enough. No, Santana did not slow down even as she was on Quinn's heels, instead ramming right into her and sending them both tumbling to the pavement below.

Quinn looked up at her pursuer who now had her pinned down to the ground. "Hey, bitch, I was going to let this be my fat day, but you just gave me an unplanned workout, so you'd better shut the hell up, sit still, and listen to what I'm about to say," Santana said through harsh intakes of breath as she quickly resumed normal breathing.

The blonde said nothing. "Right. So, I know that you may not have wanted to hear what I was trying to say back in that little shithole karaoke place, but you needed to hear it. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I took a little star-shaped page out of Rachel Berry's book and communicated with you in a song."

"So you basically humiliated me back in there, telling me in front of a crowd that I'm only dating a guy as my beard, that he means nothing but a childish fantasy to me, that I'm only trying to please my parents and my religion? God, Santana, I thought we'd moved past that sort of humiliating each other when we graduated," Quinn spat angrily, shaking her wrists against the tight hold the Latina held her in.

"Excuse me? Humiliation? The crowd had no fucking clue what that song meant to you. Hell, they might not have even picked up that it was for you at all, you self-centered whore. To everyone but you, that looked like two friends walked in there and one sang a song. The other friend then ran out, followed by the first friend. That's it. Fin de la estoria," Santana explained harshly.

Quinn fumed silently for a little while before relaxing her struggles against the smaller girl on top of her. "You're right. The only reason I'm freaking out-"

"Is because you know I'm right. With what I was saying in that song, I mean," Santana finished Quinn's sentence for her. The blonde nodded. The two of them stayed like that, Santana still holding Quinn down, for a pause, both breathing in sync and taking in the agreement they'd come to.

"So, lesbi-honest…" Santana started, making Quinn crack a smile.

"Shut the hell up," Quinn admonished, but there was no bite.

"Hey, calm down, I'm just yanking your chain. Well, not literally, because you're so vanilla that it hurts," Santana said, echoing a similar statement that she'd made while the two were still in school.

There was silence again, but it was calm. There was no one else out on the street at this time of night at this strip because all of the shops were closed. It was just the two of them, lying on top of one another outside of a darkened pizza place.

"So… can I help you?" Quinn asked teasingly. Santana looked upwards, pretending to think about it.

"Nope," she replied, popping her lips.

"And… are you going to get off of me?" Quinn asked further. Santana gave a false thoughtful expression once more before smirking.

"Not just yet," she responded, her smirk melting into a soft smile. Quinn's brow furrowed in confusion before Santana let her head down until her nose touched the blonde's.

"What are you doing?" Quinn breathed. She went cross-eyed just trying to meet Santana's eyes.

"Don't tell me you're that stupid," Santana breathed back. Quinn could feel the words on her lips before they were covered by Santana's.

It was soft and slow. It was a gentle pressure and not at all like any kiss Quinn had ever seen Santana share with Brittany. Santana held Quinn's lower lip between her own and slowly moved around it, gently caressing it before releasing it after a few seconds. She pulled her head back, meeting Quinn's gaze and waited for a reaction. Quinn blinked at her, knowing her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were glazed over with a little bit of desire.

"Now tell me you're not gay," Santana whispered. At that, Quinn threw the smaller girl off of her, but not with a terrible amount of violence.

"Don't you toy with me. Just because I've started to notice that I might be somewhat… gay… doesn't mean that you can just play with my emotions and-" But Santana cut her off.

"I'm not toying. There weren't any emotions involved there besides the ones you already know about," Santana shot back, talking over her.

"You don't just kiss your friends! Especially not when they're just starting to come out!" Quinn yelled, getting to her feet now. Santana followed suit, getting in her face.

"Oh really? So, what, you're just going to go off and experiment with your newfound gay with some chick you don't know? Like, what's her name… Gracie?" Santana yelled right back. Gone was the gentleness from the kiss she'd bestowed not a minute earlier.

"It's Tracie, and maybe I will!" Quinn fired back. At this point their faces were close again and Quinn had to fight off the strong desire to kiss the other girl now that she knew it could be such a pleasant experience.

"Listen, my little baby gay, you're going to get hurt that way. You're in college. Girls experiment all the time, but it doesn't mean anything. Whether it's the next hour, day, or week, she'll tell you it was all a mistake and a good bit of fun, but she's straight. But it won't be the same for you. You're going to go and get emotionally involved and have your little rainbow heart ripped out of your chest." Santana spoke with impassioned fire that almost frightened Quinn with how much emotion the Hispanic girl was putting behind her words. She knew without a doubt Santana cared deeply about this and wanted to get her message through loud and clear.

Quinn reached out to place her hand on Santana's face, cupping her cheek. She watched as that action released some of the tension in her body. "You're right- it is college, and a lot of girls experiment. And I know I'm different than them because I really am… gay. Hell, I can't even say it half the time, but I know it's true. But what would you have me do? Stay single throughout college?"

Santana placed her hand over Quinn's, holding the pale fingers tighter to her own cheek. "No. I'm not saying that at all. What I'm saying is… if you're going to experiment with this, let it be with me. I know you know you're gay but… you still need a first girl experience at some point. I don't want that to be some stupid whore sorority girl that can't even manage to tell the difference between a shirt and a dress," Santana replied, her voice lowering in both pitch and intensity.

Quinn rubbed her thumb over Santana's cheekbone, realizing what Santana was offering. "Friends with benefits? Really, San? I thought that shit was for high school and married people."

"I'm just saying that's how it can start. It… might not have to stay that way," Santana said, stumbling a little over the second part of her offer.

Quinn understood what she was saying. She was saying that their relationship could start purely physical but it might end up to be more. Quinn also wasn't stupid- she knew that some part of Santana was desperately trying to fill the hole that Brittany left behind when she left for New York, but part of Quinn would much rather she fill that hold temporarily instead of countless one night stands or a stranger with bad intentions.

"I can do that," Quinn mumbled. Santana smiled a sort of sad smile that Quinn didn't really know how to interpret, but she wasn't given much time seeing as Santana had leaned in once more to close the gap between their lips.

They both knew they weren't what each other wanted, they weren't even really what each other needed, but it was the closest they were going to find with the lives they found themselves living.

**END FLASHBACK**

"She rescued me. I realized that afterward. I mean, I could've ended up making out with some girl at a party while she was drunk and that being my first experience with a girl, where she wakes up the next day denying that it meant anything. Or I could have chased Tracie, who was straight, and ended up getting heartbroken. Either way, I would've ended up hurt. But with Santana… I had something close to healthy. She was a lot of my firsts. First friend in high school, first person to punch me, first kiss with a girl, first…" Quinn paused, blushing a little. "…time, with a girl. She shaped my life in a lot of ways. But after about a year and a half of being with her, we both realized that we were not in love with each other, although for a little while in there we'd convinced ourselves we were, and we stopped all of the physical stuff. I stayed living with her though because she was still my best friend," Quinn finished, her eyes closing with her last few words. She was lost in a memory.

While Quinn was lost, Rachel wondered how hard it must have been for the two of them to stay friends after breaking up. But, from what she'd seen of the two girls, they would literally go to hell and back and still be by each other's side. It would take a lot to separate those two for more than a couple weeks. Plus, from how Quinn had described it, their relationship had mostly been one of discovery and convenience, so ending it was like turning a page in a novel- they may have liked the page they just read, but there might be something even better on the next page.

Rachel stayed quiet for a little while until Quinn returned to the world of the living. "So when you said before that the two of you 'found each other', that's what you mean," Rachel commented, remembering that day at Breadstix.

Quinn smiled. "Yeah. We found each other at our most vulnerable points- when I was just coming out and when she had lost Brittany."

The two stayed there, feeling as though they'd connected in some way that eluded them all throughout high school. They found each other, in a different sort of way. And Rachel never wanted to let go now that she'd finally found Quinn Fabray.

**A/N: So, how did you like the flashback? I hope this chapter explained enough for now about Quinn and Santana's past relationship. Quinn has parted with one of her secrets, but she's still keeping more.**

**It was pointed out to me that I had Santana and Brittany breaking up while Santana was in med school. I meant to say undergrad, premed. That is what would fit with the timeline. Sorry for that! When working a few years in the future from the show, it's sometimes difficult to keep things straight.**

**Next chapter should see Rachel's turn at giving up some information about her life and people she knows. Oh, and the return of Santana! I love Santana's character, so don't expect her to be leaving anytime soon.**

**Review if you love Faberry! And Happy New Year!**


	10. Chapter 10

When Rachel woke up, it was to a ringing cell phone that she answered with a grunt and without even checking the caller ID.

"_Where the hell are you? You better not have found some random sleazy New York City chick to fuck and now want me to pick you up. Oh, no, you can walk your ass back to our hotel if that's the case. And if you did, I am _so_ disappointed that you didn't let me be your wing woman_," Santana said on the other side of the phone.

Rachel balked. Why was Santana calling her and asking if she had slept with a stranger? And then it hit Rachel- she pulled the phone away from her face to double check. Yup. She had just answered Quinn's phone.

The night before came rushing back to her. She and Quinn had made it through a few glasses of wine each and Rachel had offered for Quinn to stay overnight and sleep on her couch since she didn't want Quinn going back out while drunk in an unfamiliar city alone. Rachel must have accidentally grabbed Quinn's phone and taken it into her room instead of her own.

"_Well? I'm waiting for you lame-ass excuse_," Santana pressured. Rachel cleared her throat.

"I'm afraid this isn't Quinn," Rachel said, her voice cracking a little with the effect of sleep still lifting. There was a bit of silence on the other end of the call.

"_So, Quinn did find a sleazy New York City chick after all, huh? I didn't expect it to be one that I already knew_," Santana spat. Rachel winced at the insult and realized how it must look from Santana's point of view. Quinn had left without telling Santana where she was going and stayed out all night and now Rachel was picking up her phone. That story didn't exactly spell out innocence.

"This is not what you're thinking, Santana," Rachel said carefully.

"_Oh, so now you know what I'm thinking? I think you don't even know what _you_ think, midget_," Santana growled.

Rachel collected her thoughts as best as she could. "Look, Quinn probably didn't tell you that she was coming over here, but I invited her over so we could try to smooth things over between us. We talked, we drank, and I let her sleep on my couch. That's all. I understand that you're concerned about Quinn's wellbeing, and I respect that, but I believe that you also need to respect Quinn's choices as to who her friends are," Rachel responded, keeping her voice confident.

Santana laughed.

"_Friend? You were never Quinn's friend_."

And with that, Rachel was taken aback. It stung a lot, because she knew that Santana was right. They'd been enemies, acquaintances, and teammates, but never friends.

"_Look, just give her phone back so I can talk to her. Right now_," Santana let out with an angry sigh.

Rachel rolled out of bed without another word to Santana and walked out of her room to see Quinn still asleep on her couch. Something did seem wrong to Rachel about the sight- Quinn didn't belong on some couch she'd never even seen before. Doubts crept into her mind about what the two had talked about the night before about patching things up. What was there to patch up when they'd never had a friendship to begin with?

She shook her head and leaned down to gently shake the slumbering woman's shoulder. Quinn squeezed her eyes shut before cracking one open to give Rachel a questioning look. Rachel couldn't help but smile at the sight since it was a little bit cute, but she smothered it and just handed Quinn her phone where she knew Santana was waiting expectantly to speak with the other woman.

"What?" Quinn asked groggily. Then there was silence as Santana presumably said something on the other side of the call. Rachel watched Quinn wake up more and more with each moment of silence and her expression turn from sleepy to absolutely blank. It was then that Rachel realized that she probably should give the girl some privacy, so she crept back into her room to wait out the phone call.

Rachel's apartment wasn't exactly large, so despite her attempt to give Quinn some privacy, the singer could still hear what was going on outside of her room.

"I know and I don't care. I know I told you I'd made up my mind, but I've changed it." Rachel wasn't sure at all what Quinn meant by that. She assumed it had something to do with how Quinn had come to talk to her, but she couldn't quite understand the context without hearing what Santana was saying.

"Look, you're wrong. I've told her more about us, you know, and she was absolutely fine with it." Then another short paused. "No, I didn't tell her that." A longer pause. "You're the only one I've told that whole story, San. I-I can't just…"

Rachel started to feel guilty listening in at this point, knowing that this was something that she specifically shouldn't be listening to. Her ears burned and she tried humming to herself to block out the sound of Quinn's voice.

"You know what? You need to make up your mind, because I have," she heard Quinn say hotly.

So maybe her humming would die out a littler every time she heard Quinn talking again. She couldn't help it- she was a naturally curious person and having a conversation fully within hearing range was just dangerous for her.

When she heard Quinn say goodbye, she gave it another solid minute before peeking out of her bedroom door. Quinn caught sight of her and flashed her a smile that didn't have quite the amount of sincerity behind it as Rachel had seen in the past, such as the night before.

"Hey, sorry about that. Santana has gone from my best friend to my girlfriend to my mom, apparently," she joked lightly.

"I'm sure she was simply concerned for your wellbeing when you did not show up by morning judging by what she said to me when I accidentally answered your phone," Rachel offered.

Quinn propped herself up on her elbows. "And just what did she say?" Quinn questioned with a raised eyebrow. Rachel opened her mouth and stayed that way for a few seconds.

"Well, she, um… she inquired as to where you were and that if you had spent the night with someone that she would be unable to pick you up," Rachel translated Santana's rather crude original message to more conversationally-appropriate words. "Though she used a slightly more crude wording," she added.

Quinn groaned and let her head fall backward, exposing her porcelain-pale neck. Rachel silently wondered if it would look as provocative if she were to try lying on the couch like that but pushed the thought from her mind in order to focus on more important matters.

"Of course she did. She seems to think that since we're in New York now that I was going to go out and bang some random girl," Quinn said, not necessarily to anyone.

"She of all people is accusing you of that?" Rachel asked, incredulous. The Santana Rachel knew would have sex with just about anyone that so much as asked.

Quinn sat up at this point, taking Rachel's attention away from her neck and to her hazel eyes. "She's a bit of a hypocrite, you know. There's the pre-Brittany, during Brittany, and post-Brittany versions of her views on that. Pre-Brittany, she would sleep with anything with a pulse, like you know. Then, when she finally got her shit together with Brittany, she was loyal to a fault. And now, post-Brittany? It's somewhere between the two. She'll get into short relationships that are focused mostly on sex, and the moment things get actually involves, she leaves."

This sort of conversation fascinated Rachel because the whole relationship with Santana and Brittany just seemed to be star-crossed lovers. They could never get it quite right even when both of them had been obviously in love with each other for years.

"They're both still in love with each other," Rachel stated confidently. Quinn met her eyes curiously.

"How do you know that for sure?" the blonde asked.

"I talked to both of them on the night of Finn's reception, separately," Rachel said, making a face. Quinn returned one of sympathy. "They did not come right out and state their feelings, but I also spoke to Brittany later, the night I met Madame Rhonda and Frankie and got some of the two girls' backstory."

Quinn gestured for Rachel to sit down next to her on the couch, so she did so. The two were facing each other- Quinn with her knees tucked to her chest and Rachel with her legs crossed.

"Speaking of the reception… how was that? I never really heard what happened between you and Finn," Quinn questioned. Rachel sighed, knowing that it was only fair that she share some of her past considering how open Quinn had been last night.

"The reception was… a little painful, but not for the reasons you might think. I think it might be best if I just tell you what happened with Finn, much in the same way that you told me about Santana," Rachel suggested. Quinn nodded.

"If you don't mind…" she replied shyly.

Rachel just smiled because this version of Quinn, the kind that held back, was so radically different from the Quinn that had demanded answers to everything back in high school. Rachel wanted to delve inside the mystery of Quinn and find out what had changed her so drastically, but she knew that it was time for some quid pro quo.

"It happened in my junior year of college…"

**FLASHBACK**

"Rachel! I'm so happy you're back in Lima!" Finn greeted her with a big sloppy kiss.

Rachel grinned at how excited her boyfriend was to see her, even if the two had fought the last time they'd been on the phone together. He had told her that she wasn't home enough and it was too expensive for him to get to New York to visit her, so she should come back to Lima more often. Rachel had tried explaining her intense schedule at NYADA, but Finn had told her that she just didn't care enough about their relationship, that she only cared about Broadway.

"I'm glad that I get to see you too, Finn," Rachel replied. She had left for Finn's house practically the moment she got home, only stopping to drop off the stuff she'd brought with her.

Finn let her inside and brought her up to his room. "I've missed you a lot. Like, more than I miss playing football. And that meant a lot to me," Finn said earnestly. But Rachel saw what he was trying to do- he was drawing a parallel between his love of football and Rachel's singing. He was trying to point out that he loved her more than football, and therefore she should pay more attention to him than her singing.

"I'm sure it did, Finn," Rachel said, trying hard to keep a smile on her face while taking a seat on his bed. Finn sat beside her and reached over to hold her hand with his. Rachel noticed how large it was, how it could easily cover her own, almost… smothering it.

"So I was thinking that maybe we could… make up for all the time you've been away," Finn said suggestively.

Rachel kept herself from outwardly groaning. Of course, Finn wanted to jump right to sex, not asking her about classes or about the audition she'd mentioned the last time they'd talked. Finn's brain was one track right now, and it wasn't an agreeable track for Rachel. It wasn't like she didn't want to have sex with her boyfriend- she had several times before- but it wasn't her top priority. There was her schoolwork and her planning for the future, none of which seemed to concern Finn. Plus, sex with Finn wasn't exactly everything she'd imagined it would be. Before she'd lost her virginity, she'd assumed that when she had sex it would be sort of magical, but with Finn she was lucky if he took longer than five minutes with her, including any into to the activity.

Finn moved his enormous hand that had been encasing hers (not holding, no) and moved it down to her thigh, rubbing there. She knew that she had no mouth on her legs to breathe through, but she still felt suffocated.

"Finn, stop," Rachel whispered. Finn stopped moving, but he did not remove his hand.

"What's wrong?" Finn asked, at first concerned. "Is it… are you on your period?" he asked in hushed tones even though there was no one around to hear him but her.

Rachel rolled her eyes at this. "No, I'm not."

"Well then why don't you wanna do it?" Finn asked crudely. Rachel noticed that his eyes squinted unattractively when he got angry at something that he did not understand. Why was it just now that she was noticing all of his imperfections?

"Being on my period is not the only time that I don't want to "do it", Finn. I thought maybe we could actually talk and not jump straight into the physical part of our relationship," Rachel explained, keeping her voice calm.

At this, Finn stood up and stomped once. "What relationship?" he accused. Rachel's jaw dropped. "Well? We only see each other when you come home, like, once a month or less. And, and, we haven't done it in a lot more than that. You barely even want to kiss me anymore! I am always the one calling you too. What the hell happened to you?"

Rachel felt tears streaming down her face involuntarily. Seeing her boyfriend angry and hearing him yell those terrible things at her… terribly true things, brought a wave of guilt over her.

"I'm trying, Finn!" she yelled. She wasn't denying Finn's accusations, nor was she pleading for forgiveness. She was just angry with herself for not feeling the same way that she had when she had first started dating Finn. She was upset that she couldn't make this relationship work. That all of her efforts to be perfect were crumbling all around her. That her last audition had gone horribly and she had been placed in the chorus, not even a speaking role.

Finn stared at her, breathing heavily, unable to say anything for the longest moment. Finally, he spoke in a low voice, "Get out."

Rachel was stunned. She did not move. She did not breathe.

"I said, go!" he repeated with more emphasis. Rachel, trembling, got up off his bed and made her way to the door, looking back once she got there. "Don't come back. Don't call me. Don't… pretend that we're still together, because we aren't."

Rachel ran out of Finn's house and back to her fathers, telling them through her tears everything that had happened. For the rest of the night they watched movies and ate vegan ice cream and wore their pajamas. Rachel felt like a child, and that was exactly what she wanted. As a child, all of her dreams were just beginning as opposed to now when they were all seeming to come to an end.

**END FLASHBACK**

At some point during her story, Quinn had reached out to take hold of her hand. Rachel noticed that it did not suffocate hers, rather breathing the air into her that she needed to keep going through her story.

"Wow, he's an asshole," Quinn said as soon as Rachel finished, causing the singer to erupt into a sort of ironic laughter. There was her whole sad story with Finn accurately summarized into four words by none other than Quinn Fabray, the girl who Rachel had stolen Finn from in the first place. "But seriously, I'm glad you could tell me about that," Quinn added, reaching out her hand that wasn't wrapped up in Rachel's to wipe a tear Rachel didn't know she'd cried away.

"It was only fair considering that you told me all about you and Santana, which also was not easy even though your tale was brighter," Rachel said. Quinn gave her a questioning gaze so Rachel knew that further explanation was in order. "It could not have been easy for you to tell me about your first lesbian relationship when bearing in mind your upbringing. You were raised to think that any sort of homosexual actions were to be abhorred, only to realize later in life that you desired those very actions."

Quinn nodded slowly at this. "You're only wrong in one way." Now it was Rachel's turn to be confused. "I didn't just realize later in life. I've always known- at least since high school. Why do you think I was such a bitch?"

Rachel came to the realization. "You were in denial, so you took it out on the world."

The two girls stared at each other with more and more understanding the more they talked.

* * *

Rachel let Quinn use her shower and borrow some clothes that would fit well enough and then took a shower herself before the two of them went out to breakfast, agreeing to meet up with Santana at the same coffee shop they'd been the day before. Rachel was not looking forward to seeing Santana again, but she knew that in order to remain friends with Quinn it would be a necessary evil. There was no Quinn without Santana; the two were a pair, no matter the nature of their relationship in the past, present, or future.

When they arrived, Santana was already there, waiting at the very same table as the time before. Quinn and Rachel both sat down across from her and Rachel felt under the microscope- Santana was eyeing them like she might an experiment in one of her science classes for school.

"So, Fabray, you're up first. Tell me what the hell you're doing," Santana said, sitting back with her arms crossed over her chest. Rachel stole a glance to the side to watch Quinn's throat move in a motion that looked suspiciously like she was swallowing in a nervous fashion.

Santana Lopez was the master of intimidation.

* * *

**A/N: This is my last update before going back for my second semester, but that does not mean that I will stop writing. I've gotten more into the swing of things, so I will be hopefully updating more often than last semester. **

**I have a fairly solid plan for the next few chapters and I promise there will be even more Faberry interaction. Next chapter has the confrontation with Santana as well as some progress...**

**I hope you're all having a great start of 2013!**


	11. Chapter 11

"I'm here because you're my only way of getting home since we took your car," Quinn responded with a challenging glare. Santana leveled with her expressionally for a bit before responding.

"Fine. Can you give me some time with the midget? Our hotel is only a couple blocks from here- you can go back and change," Santana said, looking up and down at Quinn's outfit, clearly noticing that she was wearing Rachel's clothes.

Quinn studied Santana for a good while. Santana rolled her eyes. "Oh, piss off. I'm not gonna hurt her," Santana sighed.

"You better not," Quinn muttered before getting up from the table. She leaned over to whisper to Rachel to not worry and that she could leave if Santana was too awful. Rachel nodded and watched briefly as the blonde walked out of the coffee shop.

That left the two brunettes looking at each other.

"Why are you so awful?" Rachel spat. She understood Santana being protective of Quinn- who wouldn't be?- but Santana had no reason to view Rachel as a threat. She would never hurt Quinn and could specifically remember it being precisely the other way around- Quinn hurting her.

Santana didn't even blink, as if she'd been expecting that question. "This isn't a shed, so stop being a tool," she quipped. Rachel's mouth dropped open.

"What?" she asked before thinking.

"You're being a tool, hobbit. I'm the one who is supposed to be insulting you and calling you awful here," Santana replied, crossing her arms over her chest. Rachel's eyes widened in pure shock. Santana must have gone stark-raving nuts. Why had Quinn allowed Santana to have this talk one-on-one with her again? It seemed like, if anything, Quinn would have just told Santana off and reminded the fiery Latina that Rachel hadn't done anything wrong to deserve this sort of treatment.

"I should think not! You have been harassing me ever since you found out that I knew Quinn's place of business. It's been rude and completely unnecessary. I would understand a slight amount of protective measures, but you are instead attempting to control Quinn's life and who she decides to…" Rachel paused, deciding at the last moment to reword her sentence considering what Santana had said the last time she had called Quinn her friend. "associate with. And, quite frankly, I have had enough of your unending berating and insults. You and Quinn were both terrible to me in high school, but I had chosen to forgive you both for that. However, you, unlike Quinn, appear to have maintained the juvenile ways of attempting to bully me into submission. Well, guess what, Miss Lima Heights Adjacent? I am not intimidated by you anymore and refuse to give into your inane desires of control."

Rachel felt a sudden wave of relief as she finally spouted out her feelings about the crude and rude girl sitting across from her. She finally stood up to her with full capacity, finally telling her off the way she should have for years.

Santana retained the flames just behind her pupils. "I don't want to control Quinn, dumbass. She told me herself to stop her if she got too close to you," Santana replied in a harsh low voice.

At those words, Rachel felt a rush of cold air over the back of her neck almost like a chill going down her spine. "Wh-what?"

"Don't you remember, midget? The week after graduation?" Santana attempted to jog Rachel's memory. The singer's mind immediately flashed back to that time period, trying to place whatever the hell Santana was talking about. Then it came back to her- a week after graduation there had been a huge glee club party, including other invitees of people in the club, and they'd all gotten fairly drunk in celebration.

"The party, yes, I do remember that, but I fail to see what that has to do with Quinn and I, or your involvement," Rachel responded.

Santana sat back in her chair, tapping her fingers on the table. "You really don't remember? Wow, you really must be a lightweight then."

Rachel's brow furrowed, trying to recall any interactions from that night. It was all very hazy, one- because it was six years ago, and two- because she had consumed more alcohol that night than she ever had before and as a result lost most of her memory from that night.

"Damn. Why don't I refresh your memory?" Santana suggested. "I wasn't there for most of it, but Quinn told me all about it the next day."

**FLASHBACK**

Puck's house was like Sin City. Alcohol, sexual tension, poker games, and the prospect of drugs on the outskirts. There were bodies smashed up against each other in the living room, writhing along to the bass line of the records playing heavily. It was in the kitchen, however, that Quinn found Santana, who was standing next to Rachel.

"Quinnie! Midge is gettin' her drunk ooooon," Santana said with a whoop. Quinn laughed when she saw Rachel throwing back another shot. No one knew how many she'd taken, but it was enough that she was hanging onto the kitchen counter for support.

Rachel giggled when she saw Quinn. "You're even prettier when I'm drunk," Rachel slurred. Quinn gave her a soft smile. She had only had a couple of beers so far- not nearly enough to put her on the same level as Rachel.

"How'd you make this happen, San?" Quinn asked.

Santana laughed hard. "I challenged the lil hobbit to take some shots with me. Told her she couldn't keep up."

Quinn shook her head. Santana looked over at Rachel to see that she was now clutching her stomach. "Uh oh, puke time? Imma so be outta here," Santana mumbled, grabbing a bottle of beer and exiting the kitchen to find Brittany.

Quinn looked at Rachel's obvious signs of vomiting being in the near future and grabbed her arm. "Let's get you to a bathroom upstairs," Quinn said, leading the shorter girl through the mass of dancing bodies and helping her stumble up the stairs. She took her into Puck's parents' room and closed the door behind them so no one would interrupt before helping Rachel into the master bathroom and lifting the toilet seat.

True to form, Rachel worshipped the porcelain god a few times while Quinn held her hair back. Rachel mumbled in between sessions something about wanting to say something. Finally, when it seemed that Rachel had prayed her last to the toilet, Quinn passed her a paper towel to wipe her face and a cup of water. Rachel muttered a thank you and utilized both objects.

"Why're you up here?" she asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

"Because I didn't want you upchucking in Puck's kitchen," Quinn stated.

"No, that's why'm up here. Not you," Rachel disagreed. Quinn got quiet.

"I'm up here with you because there's nothing worse than throwing up alone in a bathroom that's not yours at a party that most of the people there have at one point hated you," Quinn answered honestly.

Rachel leaned back against the shower wall for support. "Why didja all hate me? I… just wanted… friends."

Quinn gave Rachel a pained expression. "We hated you because you were getting out, you were going to be famous, and the rest of us were probably just going to stay in the same boring lives forever."

"And you, you gave me train tickets," Rachel pointed out. Quinn got a little bit hopeful at this point that Rachel was going to point out that she was trying to make amends. "But I'll never use 'em. Because you're the worst. I… I was always nice to you. I always gave you second chances. And thirds. And twentieths. But you still were terrible, and for no reason."

And Quinn's hopes were crushed; she cringed from the truth of what Rachel was saying. The part that hurt the worst was that Rachel said that she would never use the train tickets, and not because she'd spent a lot of money on them, but because that meant that she wouldn't get to see her.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I know I was awful and I know there's no way that I can make up for that, at least not any time soon," Quinn whispered. "But let's get you into a bed. You looked exhausted."

Rachel didn't protest as Quinn hoisted her up off the bathroom floor and eased her into the bed.

"Goodnight, Rachel," Quinn said quietly, brushing stray hairs from the brunette's face.

But Rachel grabbed her hand. "I will never forgive you. Not really. I might say that I do, but I will never be able to trust you. I'll always remember you as the person who brought me down more times than I could count, but I won because I got back up every time. So thanks for that. I might even mention your name in my speech when I get awards as my biggest struggle," Rachel said soberly. Quinn was in a stunned silence. She had never heard Rachel speak to her so harshly, not even in their many requited fights.

With tears in her eyes, Quinn whispered a goodnight and watched as Rachel promptly fell fast asleep.

**END FLASHBACK**

Rachel felt the sting of tears by the time Santana had finished quoting the last of Rachel's terrible words to Quinn. She did not remember any of that exchange at all and almost wished she hadn't been told.

"I… I can't believe I said all of those awful things to her," Rachel stumbled, forcibly stopping herself from crying. Santana nodded.

"Quinn always took a lot away from whatever you said, even if she didn't seem like it. She went to Yale because you told her she should. She continued acting once she was there because of you. And she believed that she was unforgiveable because you told her she was," Santana said, her words actually softening at this point.

"And so she told you to stop her from talking to me ever again because I would only hurt her again," Rachel summarized. Santana nodded once in confirmation.

"Look, I know that Q and I hurt you a lot in high school, but it wasn't always one-sided. If you decide to try to work out your shit with her, it'll be a two-way street. It's not just you getting over her hurting you, because Q's got a fragile heart and you managed to put one huge-ass crack in it that night," Santana pointed out.

Rachel could not swallow the lump that had just developed in her throat. She had caused Quinn pain beyond what she'd imagined she was capable of. True, Quinn had always hurt her, but Rachel had always prided herself on not retaliating at the same level. But no, she had.

"That's why I've been a class A bitch to you, well besides the fact that I always am anyway," Santana explained.

"I can not particularly blame you. But I really would like to repair things with Quinn. I always did want to be her friend, you know, but now I really want to try for real," Rachel said. Santana smiled.

"Good, because it can be exhausting coming up with all of these awesome bitchy quips to use on you, you know," Santana snarked. Rachel laughed at that- the idea of Santana not quipping things at her constantly.

"You know, I would also not mind befriending you, Santana. We could talk about you and Brittany, if you'd like," Rachel offered.

Santana gave her a killer glare, making Rachel realize that was exactly the wrong thing to say.

"I hope you know constantly putting your foot in your mouth makes it really hard for anyone to actually listen to you," Santana growled. Rachel shut her mouth tightly.

"Sorry," she replied with her head bowed slightly. She really had been putting her foot in her mouth a lot recently.

"Good. Now, I don't know how much Quinn has told you about her past, but I know that she's yet to tell you some of the big details. Don't press her, but she probably will at some point, so if she does, you'd better be there for her one hundred percent when she starts talking about it. Okay?" Santana had that intimidating look on her face again.

"I promise," Rachel vowed. "You know, you sound partly like an overprotective father when a boy comes to take his daughter away for the first time," Rachel noticed with a small smile.

"God, Berry, you're difficult," Santana groaned.

"And you're not?" Rachel fired back.

"Hey, I'm only difficult until you give up hoping that I'm not always right," Santana said proudly.

* * *

Rachel walked with Santana back to her hotel. Santana stopped her just before entering with her hand on the doorknob.

"I don't care if you tell Quinn everything that I told you, just don't press her to give her point of view, because I will still ends you if you make her cry," Santana said, only half-serious with her threat this time. Rachel smiled and nodded, which was the cue for Santana to open up the door to the hotel revealing an anxious Quinn sitting on the couch.

"Thank God the two of you didn't kill each other," Quinn let out as a sigh of relief.

Santana smirked. "I couldn't kill her. That would be like killing a puppy- it's not even a challenge and it would just make me feel sad inside," she replied to her worried friend.

"You know, that could almost be construed as you calling me cute, Santana," Rachel pointed out. Santana just walked past the singer to get to the hotel's small kitchen area, flipping Rachel off behind her back.

Quinn smiled at her best friend's antics and turned to Rachel. "I want to apologize for any horribly offensive things she said during your little chat."

Rachel shrugged, taking a seat on the couch next to Quinn. "She called me a puppy, but she's really the dog out of all of us- your guard dog."

Quinn snickered at that. Santana returned from the kitchenette to announce that she had to go to the second half of her conference for the day and yelled from the hotel hallway that the two of them had better behave while she was gone. Quinn responded by yelling back that she was going to have a party with lots of drugs, alcohol, and boys.

"Well, now I know you're lying. You think boys have cooties," Santana yelled, still in the hallway with the room door wide open so the two could communicate. Rachel wondered idly what the people in neighboring rooms thought of this conversation.

Finally, Santana shut the door and was on her merry way to her medical conference. That left Quinn and Rachel alone- something that Rachel realized with a little bit of a flutter in her chest. The blonde woman managed to make her all sorts of happy even when the two of them were fighting. She had this epiphany the night before- even though the two of them had problems just about every time they were near each other, Rachel found that she had become a happier person ever since Quinn Fabray had reentered her life.

It was during these musings that Rachel found Quinn poking her in the side to bring her back to reality.

"Hey, you alright there?" Quinn asked lightly. Rachel gave her a quick grin to reassure her.

"I am, actually. I was just taking stock of my life and realizing that ever since Finn's wedding day my life has been looking up," Rachel answered with complete unexpected honesty. "It's funny because, as a younger and more idealistic woman, I envisioned the day I married Finn as the beginning of the best time of my life. But part of that is apparently unfolding to be correct; the day of Finn's wedding, albeit not to me, has opened up new unexpected, but yet encouraging, parts of my life."

Quinn met her eyes with an intense look that Rachel did not quite understand. She mentally went back through her statement, looking for any key words that might have provoked such a heated expression from the blonde. She couldn't find anything, especially since she was not certain if Quinn was upset or pleased. The girl had always been a puzzle wrapped in an enigma with a cool exterior of beauty.

Perhaps realizing that she had been staring, Quinn cleared her throat. "Right. Well, I'm glad that things are working out for you. I mean, look at you, networking with some of the rising names in Broadway and befriending the infamous Madame Rhonda? I'd count that as looking up. But why do you count the reception as the beginning?"

Rachel grinned, realizing that Quinn either had no idea or was fishing for compliments. "Well, it was that night that I finally reached beyond myself and reconnected with three important people that all, in their own way, have contributed to my success." Quinn's face scrunched up in confusion, so Rachel continued. "First was you, before the wedding, then Santana at the reception and then Brittany afterward. Without Brittany, I probably would not have a lunch date with Madame Rhonda. Without Santana, I would not have ever been able to steal your phone number from her to contact you again. And finally, meeting up with you again has given me the confidence I needed to pursue my dreams again."

Rachel's heart sped up a little at just how honest she was being here. It was thrilling and just a little bit terrifying that she was spilling her recent life story to Quinn. It would have been bad enough if it was anyone besides Kurt or Michael, but it was this fascinating girl that she couldn't help but want to impress. Quinn had that effect on people, Rachel supposed. She could turn every head in a room whether she was the head cheerleader, pregnant, a pink-haired punk, or a seemingly-nobody stripper. She had that sort of natural charisma that she wasn't even always aware of. She could paint the stars in the sky.

Quinn slipped he hands into Rachel's. "It's all I've ever wanted, you know, to force you to go after your dreams," Quinn confessed, biting her lip.

If Rachel thought her heart was racing before, it was now racing. Quinn's hands were soft and delicate. Santana really did have the right idea- Quinn should be protected. Rachel wondered how though, because she was still the strongest person she'd ever met.

"I know," Rachel admitted. She remembered Quinn's explanation about pushing Rachel to get out of Lima by bullying her repetitively, even if she didn't agree with the methods. And she knew Quinn regretted it immensely, so she did not feel the need to dig the knife in any further by protesting again.

Quinn, noticing that the air had gone heavy from the depth of the talk they were having decided to lighten the mood. "So, tell me about Kurt's reactions when you told him about your lunch date with Madame Rhonda."

The two talked for a while after that about general events in their lives, keeping it light. Their conversations of late had a lot of heavy emotional content, and the two young women were enjoying a chance to just be… friends.

It was about ten minutes later that Quinn remembered to remove her hands from Rachel's.

* * *

**A/N: I know that I have been using flashbacks a lot, but I find that it's the best way to bridge the gaps between high school and six years later, where this story is set. There will be at least one more used in this story, but if you don't like the flashback format, let me know, and I'll scrap the others that I have planned.**

**I hope this chapter helped explain why Santana's being extra-bitchy. I know some of you have been annoyed by it, as you should have been since that was intended, but there is a point behind her actions. She knows a lot about Quinn, remember that too.**

**Next chapter sees Quinn and Santana's (very temporary) departure as well as Rachel making some possible realizations. Review if you love Faberry!**


	12. Chapter 12

Rachel didn't want Quinn to be leaving so soon. Or, well, at all. She had enjoyed these past couple of days more than anything, even with her slightly calamitous interactions with Santana at some points. Santana seems to be grudgingly accepting Rachel as a new facet of Quinn's life, which Rachel is extremely grateful for. Today, Rachel is accompanying Quinn and Santana to the train station for their departure. Kurt and Michael have also decided to come along so they can say goodbye even though they didn't really have the chance to see the two women at all.

The five of them walk through New York together with Rachel in the lead, walking as slowly as she can while still keeping a good enough pace that they won't be late and miss the train. She's struggling to keep conversation going because she wants to beg Quinn to stay in New York, to find a job there as, who knows, a receptionist or something.

It's at this line of thought that makes Rachel remember that Quinn lives with Santana. She would most likely want to continue doing so, which means that Santana would have to find a job in New York as well. But, despite all the odds, Rachel was finding herself tentatively enjoying spending time with Santana.

When they got to the train station, there was about five minutes left before Quinn and Santana had to board.

"It's been really great to see the two of you," Rachel said somewhat awkwardly.

"You too," Quinn said, which was quickly overlapped by Santana.

"Yeah, whatever. You're alright, Berry. I mean, you live in New York, and we live in Ohio, so I guess I can put up with you." Santana turned to Kurt and Michael. "Oh, and next time I'm in the city? I gotta hang out with you and your boytoy, Kurt."

Kurt looked mildly offended, but Michael rubbed his arm to calm him down. "Sounds perfect, Santana," Michael responded civilly.

"I think it's time for us to board," Quinn gestured to the train behind them. Hugs were exchanged all around. When Rachel hugged Quinn, she couldn't help but leave a small kiss on the blonde's cheek.

"I'll be back," Quinn whispered. Something about the way she said it made Rachel curious. But she let both it and Quinn go, watching her join Santana and get on the train.

As the remaining three of them walked back to their apartments together, they talked about their plans for the upcoming week, what Rachel was going to wear to her lunch with Madame Rhonda, and discussed Michael's want for a dog, which Kurt still staunchly disagreed with.

When they reached the junction where they would go separate ways, Kurt changed the topic. "So, I saw that Quinn was granted a kiss on the cheek and Santana was not," he noted. Rachel felt her neck go a little warm- had she treated Quinn differently?

"So? Santana's not exactly the most physically affectionate type," Rachel explained.

Kurt snorted. "Oh, and Quinn is?"

"Shut up," Rachel replied, which clearly meant that Kurt was right and she didn't want to admit it.

"I was under the impression that Santana was _very_ physical," Michael commented with a snicker. Rachel swatted him on the arm.

"Go home and watch a fashion show or whatever it is you two do when I'm not around," Rachel said, waving goodbye as she made her way back to her apartment.

* * *

It started that day after Kurt's comment and continued for the rest of the week.

She couldn't get this whole thing off of her mind. Rachel had kissed Quinn on the cheek. Wasn't that completely typical of good friends, especially in New York? But then again, she never kissed Kurt or Michael and she hadn't kissed Santana. Why? She scoffed at the thought at first, thinking that there was no need to overanalyze such a small gesture. But then she remembered Quinn's hands in hers and the way her heart had raced when it was just the two of them alone together, sharing personal thoughts and memories.

She remembered how she'd admitted to Quinn that she was much happier since the blonde had come into her life. She recalled Quinn talking softly to her, the feeling of whispers against her ear before she left her alone with Santana, and then again when she'd promised to come back to New York.

Rachel's mind wandered to the tantalizing image of Quinn dancing at the strip club, watching her toned leg muscles work, taking note of the conveniently placed glitter on the top of her chest. She remembered being pinned up to the wall that night and wondered if she'd ever been in such a heated experience before in her life. It had been the heat of anger, of course, but Quinn was still dressed as a stripper for God's sake, so it was still somewhat arousing.

Arousing. She'd just associated Quinn with arousal.

"Oh my God… I have a crush on Quinn Fabray," Rachel mumbled to herself.

* * *

After having her little epiphany, Rachel had to restrain herself from instantly calling Kurt for his opinion on the whole thing. She managed to keep these thoughts to herself for a good two and half more weeks. The highlight of those two and a half weeks quickly became thrice-weekly phone calls from Quinn.

The two would talk about just about everything, and it made Rachel giddy. It was like finally having a female best friend that she could gossip with and generally be like a middle school girl. She told Quinn all about lunch with Madame Rhonda and how the dance master had hinted at being involved in one of Frankie's new endeavors and possibly getting Rachel an audition. She told Quinn about this even before Kurt, which was unusual.

She would also send Quinn texts randomly throughout the day when she saw something that reminded her of the blonde or something funny happened. By the time it had been almost three weeks since she had last seen Quinn, Rachel decided that she couldn't keep all of her feelings inside of her head any longer. So, she called Kurt and asked if he could come over after work, to which he agreed. He asked if Michael could come too, but Rachel declined.

"What's up, sweetie?" Kurt asked as soon as he opened Rachel's front door, not bothering to knock, like usual. Rachel was sitting at her kitchen table with her head in her hands and her elbows on the table. Kurt pulled out a chair and sat next to her. "Is something wrong?"

Rachel let out a sigh, trying to think of how the best way to approach this would be. "Kurt, you know how I've always imagined myself ending up with the perfect leading man? A singer, a dancer, someone who could level with me. Someone attractive and kind and strong. And someone that knows how to handle me even when I get a tad bit… dramatic," she started.

Kurt looked at her quizzically. "If you're about to tell me that you've met a guy that you think meets your incredibly high standards, please excuse me while I literally shit bricks," Kurt said, holding up his hands. Rachel shot him a glare.

"My standards are not impossible," she denied. Kurt gave her that sort of "Sure!" nod before letting her continue. "Well, anyway, I know that you may have begun to consider me an asexual workaholic, and perhaps you have been right for the most part, but I think I am changing."

"God bless you, are you telling me that you finally stopped believing boys are icky?" Kurt mocked. Rachel groaned; he was clearly not taking this seriously.

"Kurt!" she admonished. Kurt's eyes widened.

"You're serious?" he questioned hesitantly. Rachel bit her lip. "Damn. You're biting your lip. You'd better spill it, girl."

Rachel took a deep breath, once again stuck on how to move this forward. "I have met someone that makes me feel like someone's planted a butterfly bush inside of my stomach and it's being populated like crazy. I don't think that this person knows that I could even possibly think of them in that way, and it's not like I even really wanted to, considering the fact that our lives do not really overlap in the way that I imagined previously. And, at this point in my life, I should really be focusing on getting on Broadway since I've now got the connections to make it there. And I'm pretty sure that she would never return my feelings, so I should probably-"

Kurt cut off her ramble with one word- "What?!"

Rachel's face scrunched up. "What?" she repeated.

Kurt's eyes had widened again. "She," he said.

"Kurt, what in the world are you talking about, spewing words like 'what' and 'she'?" Rachel demanded.

"You said _she_," Kurt emphasized. Rachel swallowed. There it was- problem one of this little tiny crush and discussing it with Kurt. She hadn't meant to use a gender specific pronoun, but there went that plan. "Rachel, you've met someone. A _girl_. You know, I always thought that the girls I set you up with always failed a little less disastrously than the boys."

"Wow, thanks," Rachel said sarcastically. Kurt made no apologies.

"What's she like? Did you meet her at an audition? Please tell me she does not fail at fashion like you did before I trained you, because I'm not sure if I'm ready for a project of that size just yet. Oh, worse, please tell me she's not straight," Kurt spouted a bunch of questions off.

Rachel held up four fingers. "She's… beautiful, and she can sing, and she's smart. And no, I didn't meet her at an audition. She's actually quite fashionable, I should think, and I'm going to ignore your dig at my fashion for the time being. And no, she's not straight," Rachel said, bringing a finger down for each of Kurt's questions that she answered.

"And why did you say that she would probably never return your feelings then?" Kurt asked. This was the hard part- telling Kurt that she had a little crush on someone who had tormented her in high school. This was a girl both of them knew and that would make this whole thing harder. She had no idea if Kurt would completely reject the idea of her liking Quinn. Rachel had told Kurt about Quinn and Santana's past relationship, so he already knew that Quinn was gay, but Rachel knew his mind wouldn't jump there unless she flat-out told him.

"Because we're good friends," Rachel replied. She knew that it was a bit of a copout way of getting at the crux of the matter, but she didn't want to be the one who actually brought this out in the open.

"Rachel, please do not take offense at this, but I wasn't aware that you had any particularly close female friends," Kurt said gently. Rachel didn't take any offense. She was just annoyed that he didn't put two and two together.

"You've met her," Rachel added. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't aware that this had turned into a guessing game. What are we, five? And you have a crush on little Susie because you like the way she draws a heart over the "i" in her name?" Kurt snarked.

"No, I'm not five, but I suppose this is just a little crush. It's probably a result of exactly what you were just saying- I haven't had many close female friends in my life, so I'm probably just latching onto her," Rachel resigned herself to saying. Kurt shook his head in disapproval.

"Nuh-uh, no way, you are not getting out of this one without telling me," Kurt said with a tone of finality.

Rachel couldn't bring herself to just say the name. "Do you recall a blonde cheerleader from McKinley High School?" Rachel offered meekly. If Kurt had looked shocked before, he was floored now.

"Please… please tell me you're not talking about someone who used to date Santana," Kurt responded. He seemed generally nervous. Rachel closed her eyes.

"Yes," she breathed out.

"Dammit, Rachel," Kurt cursed. Rachel opened her eyes; Kurt was staring at her like she had just killed a puppy.

"You can't. That's setting yourself up for heartbreak," he said. This was what she had been dreading- Kurt not approving of it. And he was probably right, which was the worst part of it all.

"I know," she whispered in response. Kurt was silent for a short while.

"You know that she's been in love with Santana since high school and probably always will be, right? Even if you did manage to get her, it would be temporary, just a fling," Kurt warned. At this, Rachel paused.

"Since high school?" Rachel repeated. Kurt gave her a look like she had grown three heads.

"Um, yeah? Everyone in the school knew it, even before they announced it," Kurt said slowly like Rachel had gone daft. It was then that Rachel realized the miscommunication.

Rachel slowly shook her head from side to side. "I didn't mean Brittany, Kurt," she corrected. Kurt rubbed his temples, trying to figure it out. Rachel watched his wheels turning in his head for all of ten seconds before Kurt let his head drop to hit the table once before lifting it once more to look at Rachel.

"You're kidding me, right?" Kurt said. Rachel said nothing. "I almost wish you had said Brittany, because then I could just smack your head around a little and you would realize that was hopeless. But Quinn Fabray? You're getting yourself into waaay too much with that one."

Rachel started to get a little angry at this point. "Look, I didn't bring this up for you to tell me that it's a bad idea. I already knew that. It's just a little crush anyway, but I thought you'd at least be a little happy that I'm reconsidering being single for the rest of eternity," she said defensively.

Kurt took that in. "Alright, alright, so you've got a little girl crush on Quinn. Hooray, you're gay for Fabray!" he exclaimed with a huge fake grin plastered across his face and clapped his hands. "Is that what you wanted?"

Rachel gave him a glare. "No. And, you know what? This will all blow over soon, and I'm sorry that I brought it up at all."

"Rachel, I'm sorry, but you did just drop a huge bombshell on me. I mean, I knew that you and Quinn were starting to reconnect and everything, but I thought that's all it was," Kurt backtracked.

Rachel let out a breath. "Fine. Let's have some vegan ice cream and watch that stupid show you like and act like we're dumb teenagers and forget this whole thing for the night."

* * *

As it turned out, Rachel's little crush did not seem to agree with her about leaving. She still felt her heart flutter every time Quinn's name showed up on her caller ID.

"Hey, Quinn, how are you?" Rachel answered her phone with a bright tone of voice.

"_I'm good- great actually_," Quinn replied. "_I have something to tell you_."

"Oh?"

"_You know that conference Santana went to about a month ago? Well, she made some contacts there, and one of them has offered her a job in New York as a nurse and offered to pay for her doctorate if she accepts_," Quinn announced.

Rachel made a stream of excited noises that were mostly unintelligible at that point. "You mean- you mean you two are moving to New York?" Rachel squealed. Quinn laughed at the singer's obvious excitement.

"_Yup, we move into an apartment next week. I looked it up, and we'll only be a few blocks from you_," Quinn affirmed. Cue some more squealing.

"What about you? Are you going to… leave you job?" Rachel asked.

"_Well, duh. I'm not going to be making that drive every day_," Quinn replied with a small laugh. Okay, so Rachel had worded her question dumbly.

"Yes, of course, but I meant to ask if you were going to leave your current form of employment in search of a new type of job," Rachel rephrased. It became quiet on the other line.

"_I don't see why I would. There are strip clubs in New York_," Quinn replied. Rachel bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. She knew that she was treading in dangerous territory here.

"But you don't have to continue that profession. You could always get a job here as a receptionist or a waitress or… or anything, really," Rachel suggested. She listened to Quinn's testy "hmm" and waited for a reply.

"_Let's not talk about this_," Quinn said with a tone of finality.

"Okay, but I am more than willing to help you search for a job-"

"_I get it. Listen, I have to help Santana pack. Talk to you later_," Quinn cut her off and promptly hung up without giving Rachel a chance to say goodbye. Rachel sat there with her phone in her hand wondering why she had to bring that up during what was supposed to be an exciting and happy phone call.

* * *

Rachel managed to regain her general excitement about Quinn and Santana moving to New York when she told Kurt and Michael about it. They shared in her enthusiasm and began talking animatedly about how much fun it would be to go out to dinner with them or go out for drinks. Rachel wondered if Santana was always an emotional drunk like she'd witnessed at Finn's reception. She also wondered what sort of a drunk Quinn would be, or if she would even allow herself to get drunk after what had happened to her in sophomore year.

Kurt was excited for Quinn and Santana to come to New York, but he also gave Rachel a weird sort of glance when Michael wasn't looking. Rachel knew that he was probably trying to remind her that he knew about her growing affections for Quinn and was wondering how this move would affect things. Rachel was happy that he didn't bring it up with Michael there because that meant he hadn't shared Rachel's new secret with his boyfriend.

Rachel waited out the next week with growing anticipation despite not hearing from Quinn at all. She didn't get a few texts from Santana, but she made no allusions to Quinn or her feelings, so Rachel was left in the dark. She just held onto the hope that the two of them could work things out once they were both going to be living in the same city.

And Rachel couldn't help but feel unreasonably happy all over again at the thought of living within walking distance of Quinn. It didn't matter that Quinn would most likely still be a stripper or that Rachel had a secret, unrequited tiny crush on the blonde or that Quinn was currently mad at her. It just mattered that Rachel wouldn't have to wait to see her- she could literally walk a few blocks.

"Just remember when you see her, don't… freak out too much. You're the one who told me that this is just a phase you're going through, a bit of an infatuation that will fade over time. You're happy to have Quinn back in your life is all. Don't overreact and scare her off." Kurt's words came back to her from two days before move-in day.

Rachel wanted to bang her head into a wall to shake all of the thoughts of Quinn from it. She wanted to help Quinn realize that she was worth more than just a hot body for pervy old men to watch. Quinn could be anything she wanted, if only she put in the effort.

Rachel had always sought to help Quinn improve her life, to make something of herself, and Rachel would be damned if she didn't figure out a way to make that past goal of hers come true at long last.

Now she just had to adjust to containing her emotions when Quinn lived in the same city as her.

* * *

**A/N: Quick update for you guys! If I get reviews, I get the motivation I need to keep writing even when I'm balancing classes, band, a job, and a somewhat complicated social life. As promised, Rachel is realizing her feelings. **

**Next chapter has Quinn and Santana moving in, more talk of Quinn's job, and starts to get to the core of the matter- why does Quinn work as a stripper instead of having finished off her degree at Yale? The next couple chapters will deal strongly with that question.**

**I can see this story lasting at least five more chapters if I do the short version, but it could go as long as ten or more if I go through all of the plot that I have tentatively planned.**

**Hopefully your reviews will be enough of a kick in the ass for me to write!**


	13. Chapter 13

Rachel had tried to convince Kurt and Michael to help Quinn and Santana move in, but they both were taking their Saturday as a date day, so Rachel was left alone to help the two women unpack. She had wanted to have the boys with her because not only would the unpacking go quicker that way, but it would also put another barrier between her and Quinn. Rachel wasn't exactly certain how Quinn was feeling toward her considering their last fight over the phone. She had spoken to Quinn exactly once since then, and that was only to let Rachel know the exact time she would be getting to New York with Santana as well as give her their new address.

When Rachel arrived to help, the two women greeted her with excitement, hugs, and lots of cardboard boxes.

As if her week couldn't get exciting enough, right while Rachel was in the middle of helping Santana and Quinn unpack and move into their new apartment, she got a phone call and the caller ID read Frankie. She picked up immediately, going upstairs to a room they had not yet started filling with boxes and furniture.

"_Rachel, I've got good news for you_," Frankie said in a sort of singsong voice. "_You know how I alluded to starting up a Broadway show? Well, it's happening, and I want you to audition for the role of the leading lady. I am assuming that this audition will mostly be a formality because I've heard how amazing you are from both Michael and Madame Rhonda. She was quite impressed with you at your lunch, by the way_."

Rachel was almost speechless. An uprising star in playwriting and prop production was asking her to be the leading lady in his baby- his musical. She was practically crying at this point.

"Yes, yes, when would you like for me to audition?" she eagerly accepted.

Frankie gave her the when and where for the audition as well as where to pick up the script so she could look it over. Rachel was floating on a cloud at this point. When she hung up from the call, she drifted back downstairs on her own personal cloud of promising hope and grinning from ear to ear.

"Berry, you go up there to smoke the happy plant?" Santana inquired when the singer descended and rejoined the unpacking efforts.

"No. I just got a call from Frankie, Michael's boss. He's getting a musical off the ground that will premiere on Broadway and he wants me to be his star," Rachel responded dreamily.

Santana let out a whistle. "Damn. Good job," Santana complimented her. Quinn had headphones in while she was unpacking in the kitchen, but she must have heard Rachel's squeal in response to Santana's congratulations.

"What's going on in there?" she yelled out.

"Berry got herself a shot on Broadway," Santana responded before Rachel could so much as open her mouth. At this, Quinn walked out of the kitchen and made her way toward Rachel. Rachel wasn't sure how the blonde was going to react considering their tenuous friendship's struggles, but she was thrilled when Quinn simply wrapped her arms around Rachel without another word.

Rachel reveled in everything about the hug- the feeling of Quinn's hands against her back, the smell of her hair, the soft press of her front against Quinn's… everything was perfect. It was, Rachel realized, the first time since high school that Quinn had ever initiated a hug between the two of them.

Quinn unwrapped herself from around Rachel. "I'm proud of you," she said quietly. Rachel beamed at her, finding herself unbelievably happy that not only was Quinn no longer visibly angry with her, but also because Quinn being proud of her was something that she craved.

"You know, you two can have your special moment when we're not in the middle of unpacking," Santana said, rolling her eyes.

* * *

When they had finished the majority of the unpacking and decided to stop for the day, Quinn walked Rachel out. Once they were outside and away from Santana, Rachel took a deep breath, deciding to hold strong to something that she'd promised.

"Quinn… I know that you were upset that I suggested that you get a job that isn't stripping, and I want to admit that I stepped over the line a little by attempting to tell you what is and isn't the right job for you. I want you to know that I still want to hold true to my offer to help you search for a job," Rachel said, forcing herself to take a breath partway through as a way to slow down her words.

Quinn's expression was suspicious. "You'll help me look for a job. A stripping job," Quinn wanted to clarify. Rachel nodded a little stiffly. It wasn't something that she was exactly looking forward to, but she couldn't think of a better way to show unconditional support for her friend.

"Yes. I have already complied a list of strip clubs within a reasonable distance of your apartment and ruled out some that I perceived as overtly-sexual in a way that might lend itself to backdoor prostitution. I also crossed off any that have been suspected for anything involved with the drug trade within the past six months," Rachel said, pulling out a small folded piece of paper.

Quinn laughed at just how Rachel Berry it was that she made a list. Always be prepared, right?

* * *

Rachel had not been prepared for this.

She had planned it all out in her head, but she had truly not been prepared to walk into strip club after strip club at night when they were most active, assaulted with visual stimuli that was not altogether displeasing. Her therapist would tell her to look behind her own verbose phrasing, which she would say was a defense mechanism, and just admit to the root of her thought. Okay, to appease her therapist… it was arousing.

Rachel felt a bit like Quinn's personal security detail, scouring the premises with her eyes for any particularly shady activity. She'd literally pushed Quinn out of the first three clubs because one of the clients had been giving Quinn "the eye". Quinn had rolled her eyes, reminding Rachel that the clients were supposed to enjoy looking at her- that's how she got tips.

Apparently it was not normal for strippers in search of work to bring along a friend. Rachel had been asked a few times already if she was also in search of work, to which she staunchly declined, trying to take it as a compliment about her body instead of an offense. She tried to behave as best as she could for Quinn's sake. After being asked who she was a few times, Quinn finally came up with a cover.

"Who's this other pretty young lass?" the one club owner asked Quinn, leering a bit at Rachel.

Quinn took a quick look at Rachel's disapproving face. "She's my girlfriend," Quinn replied in a bored voice.

Rachel blanched, not expecting that response at all. Quinn's girlfriend? That was a scenario that crept into her mind a little more than she might like to admit recently. She felt a sort of fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach, especially when Quinn wrapped an arm low around Rachel's waist. She tried her hardest to act like this wasn't the first time she'd heard about any such relationship. Rachel knew it was just pretend, just a way to explain away her unnecessary presence, but it still knocked the wind out of her.

Quinn's response only intensified the owner's leering. "And why would you bring along yer girlfriend?" he asked.

"She wants to make sure the place is a good fit," Quinn explained. Well, at least that part was true. "What do you think, babe?" Quinn inquired, turning to Rachel and bumping her hip against the short girl's.

Rachel kept the gasp that wanted to escape inside her head. She honestly hadn't found anything substantially wrong with this place. "It's not bad, sweetie. I think the lighting will suit you in here," Rachel replied. Quinn gave her a smirk, obviously appreciating Rachel's acting.

"Ah, so she likes to watch," the man said with a lecherous grin that reminded Rachel of Puck. It was one of those sort of grins that let you know he was thinking something sexual, but it wasn't something he was ever going to act on, just fantasize about. It comforted Rachel a little that this guy, though a tad perverted, seemed fairly harmless.

"You bet she does. It riles her up, you know," Quinn confirmed, tossing Rachel a saucy wink. Rachel thought she would melt on the spot.

The guy laughed and started talking details. Quinn agreed to come in starting next week on a probationary basis until he decided if she was good enough to stay and start having regular shows. Rachel listened carefully, feeling consoled that this was not a full-nudity bar, that Quinn would never be wearing less that a skimpy bra and underwear.

"Alright, babe, let's get out of here," Quinn said, giving Rachel a slap on the ass that made her let out a little yelp before the two of them walked out.

Once outside, Rachel turned to Quinn. "What was that about?" Rachel interrogated.

"Relax. I figured that it would be good if people there thought I was already in a relationship just in case anyone who works there wanted to try to get me into bed. I could fall back on you as my possessive girlfriend," Quinn explained.

That calmed Rachel down considerably. Now that she understood that, she couldn't help but comment on the absurdity of their situation. "I have to say, I've never seen quite so many near-naked women in one night." It's true- they'd visited over half a dozen strip clubs and seen many girls at each one.

Quinn snorted, which Rachel managed to find adorable. "Admit it- you liked it," she teased.

"Oh, they've got nothing on you though, Quinn," Rachel responded honestly. She hadn't intended to say that bit out loud, knowing that it came across as quite flirtatious. She chanced a glance at Quinn to see how she took it. She just smirked, nothing more, nothing less.

* * *

It was actually Santana who suggested that the five of them go out for drinks the next night to celebrate Rachel's success. The others all agreed and planned on getting to the bar by nine.

At four, Rachel got another unexpected phone call. "Hello?" Rachel answered, not recognizing the number.

"_Who are you?_" a woman's voice on the other end of the phone asked- a suspiciously familiar voice.

Rachel stumbled, never having been asked that by the person calling her before. "Um, shouldn't you know since you are the one who called me? I am not always completely aware of etiquette in certain social situations, but I was fairly certain when it came to phone calls, the person calling usually knows who they expect to be on the other end of the call."

"_Oh good, it is you then_," the woman said in relief. "_I was afraid it was going to be another scary cat lady. I like cats, but I might have to get rid of them when I get old because I don't want to be a cat lady_."

At this, Rachel smiled into the phone. "Brittany?" Rachel guessed.

"_Oops, I forgot to tell you who I was. I went through every Rachel in Frankie's phone- he has six- until I found you_," Brittany said cheerily.

"Wait, Brittany, why were you going through Frankie's phone?" Rachel asked in confusion.

"_I didn't know how else to get your number_," Brittany replied. Rachel sighed- she had almost forgotten that you had to be pretty specific with your questions or else you would get a different answer than what you were looking for from Brittany.

"Right. Why are you with Frankie?" Rachel asked before adding on a second question for clarification. "And why did you need to talk to me?"

"_Oh, but those both have the same answer! Frankie's play, Rachel, we're going to be working on Frankie's play together!_" Brittany answered excitedly. Rachel was surprised, to say the least. Brittany was primarily a dancer, not an actor, and she lived in California. Why was she going to be working on a musical in New York? "_Frankie needs someone to choreograph and Madame Rhonda can't come to New York herself, so she'd sending me to do the job for her. I'm going to train all Frankie's dancers to dance almost as good as me!_" Brittany explained.

"Wow, that's great, Brittany! When do you get to New York?" Rachel inquired. She immediately began thinking of the fact that Santana had just moved to New York as well, so the two of them would be in the same city once more.

"_Yesterday_," Brittany announced. What were the odds? Rachel had never believed in fate more than she did in that moment, hearing about how Santana and Brittany had moved to New York simultaneously. Whether or not Brittany would be staying in New York permanently was debatable, but she had to be there for at least a few months since the musical had not even officially started auditions yet.

And Rachel couldn't resist trying her hand at helping fate along.

* * *

Rachel picked Brittany up at her hotel and the two took a cab to the bar. Rachel told Brittany they would be meeting up with Kurt, Michael, Quinn, and Santana. Brittany looked a little anxious about seeing Santana, but she thanked Rachel for inviting her and admitted she had been wanting to see Santana badly since the reception when she'd only gotten a chance to see her from afar.

When the two of them showed up, the others were already seated at the bar, just ordering their first round of shots. Rachel would have been offended that they were starting the celebration that was supposed to be in her honor without her, but she was much too excited to see Santana's reaction to Brittany being in New York to care.

"Rachel!" Kurt called out, being the first one to notice her. She watched as his face twisted in confusion when he laid eyes on Brittany. Rachel watched the others' reactions in slow motion as they turned around.

Kurt was shocked. Michael seemed mildly confused. Quinn looked worried. But Santana's face couldn't decide between being livid and purely bewildered.

"Hi," Brittany greeted the group softly, her eyes locked with Santana's. The Latina stood up and walked toward the blonde, her lips parted, her expression absolutely impossible to read. At the last second, she changed direction and slapped Rachel clear across the face.

Rachel's jaw dropped open and her hand flew to her face, which was surely bright red. "Santana, what the hell?!" she heard Quinn call out. But Rachel didn't look at her, instead meeting Santana's fiery gaze. Brittany laid a hand on Santana's shoulder, but the two brunette's stayed still with eyes locked.

"You're a manipulative bitch, midget. Thank you," Santana said, her voice trembling. She then turned to Brittany.

"Come on, then. You and I have a few years worth of shots to make up for," she said brightly.

The rest of the group was stunned into silence at what had just happened, but they all downed their first shot together. No one would ever understand the mystery of Santana Lopez, except perhaps Brittany, and the blonde dancer would surely never share her findings.

* * *

Any awkwardness that the night had started with quickly dissolved due to the influence of alcohol, the feelings of celebration, and a mutual understanding between all involved parties that they'd all seen each other at some of their best and worst moments already in the past. Instead, celebration took a turn for the rowdy by the time everyone was on their fifth shot or more.

"I just realized that you're too pretty for whiskey. Whiskey is for middle-aged men with large guts. You need a martini because martinis are pretty. I like your face. Can I have goldfish now?" Brittany said seriously to Santana as she was sitting on her lap.

Quinn went into a fit of giggles at Santana's indignant face. "I like whiskey!" Santana replied hotly.

"No, no, more shots!" Michael called out both to the group and the barkeep who just rolled his eyes and poured the requested shots.

* * *

There was dancing- plenty of dancing. Kurt and Michael started it, but they were soon followed by Brittany who, of course, dragged Santana along. Rachel had a sort of fuzzy feeling that there were six of them- an even number- and the other four were already paired off, leaving her and Quinn. They should have gone to a gay bar, because all three "couples" (only one of which was an actual official couple) were of the same gender.

"Will you dance with me?" Rachel asked, holding out her hand to Quinn.

"I think you know how much I love to dance," Quinn replied with a smirk. Again Rachel flashed back to Quinn whirling around the pole that night, and she tugged Quinn to her feet, wanting to experience Quinn's dancing firsthand.

* * *

"I'm not arguing- I'm just explaining why I'm right," Santana maintained her opinion.

"Hey, I think that scientific documentaries are like… awesome. They blow my mind," Michael argued. Rachel wasn't sure how they'd gotten on the topic, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with Kurt mentioning that the stars were pretty after he came back from the bathroom. He'd gone out the front door instead of into the bathroom at first, getting the two doors confused.

"I'll start appreciating science when they come up with a way to unmeet someone. Or give the option to watch a lesbian version of that human reproduction version in class," Santana shot down science.

"But… lesbians can't make babies," Brittany pointed out. "That's what Artie told me in high school."

Santana must have been in a really good mood because she didn't react to Brittany mentioning her ex-boyfriend. "I don't care. I wanna see it happen," Santana stubbornly stood strong.

"You used to love science. You told my mom once that science had proven that homosexuality was present in nature, like with dolphins," Quinn inputted. Rachel erupted into giggles at this, picturing how that conversation must have gone down. "No wonder she always blamed you for my being gay."

"Her mom thinks I'm a bad influence. Her grandparents thought the same way about teaching science in schools," Santana said to Rachel conspiratorially.

"And we're back to science again," Kurt groaned. "I got a C in chemistry. I'd rather not relive memories."

* * *

Santana and Brittany got into a fight sometime before midnight. No one had heard enough of it to know exactly what was going on, but they supposed that they were finally getting around to talking about their past. Santana announced that the two of them were taking a cab and leaving.

Rachel expressed concern for the pair, but Quinn laughed it off. "This argument will probably end in hate sex followed by makeup sex," she reasoned. That mollified Rachel and the intense celebrating continued, meaning more drinking, dancing, and laughing.

* * *

Rachel and Quinn were dancing again. It was sloppy considering how drunk the two of them both were, but it was fun and just a little bit sexy. Quinn was much more touchy when drunk, a fact that Rachel was taking advantage of just a little. Quinn was currently behind her with her hands on Rachel's hips as they moved to the music. Rachel couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up inside of her based on just happiness. She also couldn't help moving in a way that made her ass rub against Quinn just a bit.

She could feel Quinn's breath against the back of her neck as she leaned down. She was just about to say something, Rachel thought. She was so close to Rachel's ear that Rachel almost wished the blonde would pick that moment to wet her lips so her tongue would run against her ear.

But then Quinn froze. Rachel turned around, immediately knowing something was wrong. She saw that a guy- maybe mid-twenties- had grabbed hold of Quinn's hips much in the same way that Quinn was holding onto Rachel and joined in the dancing.

Quinn caught a glance of him and Rachel could feel her starting to tremble. "Get the hell away from her!" Rachel growled. The guy held his hands up in surrender and scampered off without a word.

When Rachel turned back to Quinn, she noticed that the blonde was crying. "Hey, shh, it's okay. He's gone," Rachel consoled her. Quinn looked up at her and just shook her head.

"Let's get out of here, okay?" Rachel suggested. Quinn nodded, so she and Quinn made for the door and left the bar, hailing a cab. Rachel was about to tell the cab driver her address, but Quinn said hers before Rachel could open her mouth. They rode in silence, tears still streaming down Quinn's face.

When they got to Quinn's apartment, Quinn took Rachel by the hand and led her back to Quinn's half-unpacked room. She motioned to the bed. "Sleep here with me?" she asked, her eyes begging.

Rachel swallowed hard, not knowing if it was the best idea for her to sleep in the same house, no less bed, as this girl while intoxicated and crushing on her. It was certain to lead down roads that she shouldn't be going. Plus, Quinn was in an emotional state brought on by something that Rachel had no idea about.

"Please? I don't want to be alone tonight," Quinn whispered. Rachel sighed, knowing she couldn't say no.

"Fine, but you need to tell me why you're so upset," Rachel said, taking a seat on the bed next to Quinn.

"I… can't. Not tonight. I'll tell you tomorrow morning when we're both sober again," Quinn said. Rachel nodded slowly, kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed with Quinn, ignoring her fast-beating heart.

Rachel stayed as close to the edge of the bed as she could without falling off. Well, she did fall off actually during the night. Twice.

* * *

**A/N: This one was a little longer than normal because it was just plain too much fun to write. I have short clips of the drinking because I like that style a lot, especially for that type of scene. And no, I didn't make everyone talk ridiculously because I hate writing like that. Just saying. And I wrote this fast- aren't you happy?**

**And thank you for your reviews- I've made it to over 100! That might be just a little thing to some people, but it means a lot to me. I've been writing pretty much my whole life, so it really lights up my day when I get reviews. Stupid, I know, but that's me.**

**So I know that I promised some answers... and I didn't give them this chapter. At least not directly. This chapter was long enough without me going into Quinn's past. Next chapter, I promise. I've already written most of it, so I can promise that.**

**Review if you want to read it soon!**


	14. Chapter 14

Morning greeted Rachel with a large steaming cup of hangover. She groaned and curled up into a ball, holding her head in her hands, trying to press the pain out of her head. When that failed, she rolled out of bed to make some coffee. Upon exiting Quinn's room, she went to the kitchen in search of the coffeemaker, which she remembered unpacking previously. After putting the coffee on, Rachel checked her phone; she had a text.

**B and I are at your house. –Santana**

She texted back.

**May I ask why? -Rachel**

**We woke up here. -Santana**

**And again… why? –Rachel**

**When we took a cab last night I was too drunk to remember my new address and B couldn't remember where her hotel is. –Santana**

**I'm rolling my eyes here. Please tell me you didn't break anything. –Rachel**

**She ate all of your animal crackers. We had sex on your couch. Those two things are related, but I just can't remember how. –Santana**

**Gross. You're buying me a new couch. –Rachel**

**I just found a crushed animal cracker under the couch cushion. Oh, I remember now… -Santana**

Rachel let out a long groan, not wanting to imagine how Brittany eating animal crackers had led to the two having sex on her couch.

Rachel went back into Quinn's bedroom as she waited for the coffee, watching the sleeping blonde's face as she made coffee, noticing how her expression was exactly opposite of the night before when she had begun crying after a tall brunette guy had tried to dance with her. Rachel had wondered if Quinn was just being an emotional drunk, possibly regretting something her past, but Quinn had whispered over and over that she was going to tell her everything as the two were falling asleep. Rachel wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but she had put Quinn to bed with the promise of listening in the morning when they both weren't drunk.

The smell of coffee woke Quinn up. "Coffee," she groaned, practically crawling into the kitchen area to get a cup along with Rachel. The two took aspirin, drank coffee, and sat in silence for the next ten minutes. Rachel didn't know how to broach the topics that were promised to her the night before, and Quinn didn't seem to be in any hurry.

After both had consumed two cups of coffee each, Quinn let out a long sigh. "I guess I owe you an explanation," she said with a none too thrilled voice.

Rachel cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I don't want to push you into anything here," she responded, but Quinn waved her words off.

"No, I want to tell you. I've only ever told Santana the whole story, and I want you to know. First off all, I reacted so badly last night to that guy because he reminded me of Trey. Same hairstyle and color… similar height," Quinn sighed. Rachel wasn't sure why memories of Trey would make her cry, but she supposed it had something to do with the fact that she'd broken up with him after realizing she was gay. Quinn continued, "I was a junior at Yale and I was dating a guy named Trey, if you remember, and then you already know what happened when I went to karaoke with Santana."

Rachel nodded- she remembered the story of Quinn and Santana finding each other well. She tried to piece together the story, but any ideas she came up with in her head made her stomach cringe.

"If you paid close attention to the story, you'll realize that I was cheating on Trey by kissing Santana that night, and I even agreed to try somewhat of a relationship with her. It was the next day- Santana was still at Yale visiting- when I told him. I asked my roommate for some time alone with Trey, to which she agreed easily. I told Santana to leave, to go take a walk around campus or go get coffee so I could confront Trey. She wanted to stay for the conversation, but I refused. So she left and I broke the news to Trey."

**FLASHBACK**

"Trey, I have to tell you something," Quinn confessed, sitting on her bed next to her boyfriend.

"What's up? It doesn't sound like you've got any good news for me," Trey noted, though he didn't appear terribly concerned yet. Quinn sat in silence, wringing her hands again and again. "Hey, I'm probably not going to freak out, you know," Trey said, putting a hand over Quinn's over-actively ones.

Quinn kept her eyes glued to her lap but removed her hands. She didn't want to be touching him when she told him this. "Trey… I don't think I can be with you anymore," she admitted, her voice shaking. She dared to take a quick glance at his face and noticed it had gone stony. She'd rarely seen him angry before because she always played the perfect girlfriend for him, hoping that if she treated him right he'd be nice enough in return that she could fall in love with him.

"Why?" he asked, the word becoming a barb. "Did you cheat on me?" he asked, almost as if he already knew. Quinn remembered how he used to joke that cheating would probably be the only problem the two of them would ever have because Quinn was too damn hot for him. She'd always laugh it off and tell him that she was not too good for him. Perfect response.

She still couldn't meet his eyes. She just sat there, not responding. At this, Trey stood up, balling his hands into fists. At this point, Quinn's fear escalated.

"What the hell, Quinn? You know that I was always joking, right? About the cheating thing? I am totally not okay with this. Who was it? Jake? Trevor?" he demanded, voice strong. Quinn felt tears threatening to spill over. She had wanted so badly to salvage this relationship, to leave it on as good of a note as possible. She didn't know how that would be possible, but in her ideal world, it would happen.

"No, it wasn't either of them. It wasn't any of the guys," Quinn replied, referring to Trey's fraternity of which Jake and Trevor were a part.

"Tell me. Are you leaving me to be with this guy, or because you regret it?" Trey asked, his voice now more of a deadly calm. Quinn winced.

"I'm leaving you to… to be with them," Quinn answered honestly. Trey turned away from her and slammed both of his fists into the wall. Quinn was trembling now, regretting asking Santana to leave her alone with him. Trey was strong; she was surprised he didn't put a hole in the wall from the amount of force he used.

"What did I ever do wrong that you felt that you needed someone else?" Trey asked, mostly rhetorically. "You'd better tell me who it was now before I find out from someone else. The news of Quinn Fabray with another guy will travel fast, you know. The guy will probably start bragging about it."

Quinn stared at the back of Trey's head, mustering up her courage to tell him the hardest part of all of this, tears running freely by now. "Santana." There, she'd said it. She'd admitted it, that she was leaving Trey for a girl. She felt a simultaneously release of pressure and the gain of worry. Trey could take this in one of two ways- semi-positively, because at least if Quinn was gay there was nothing that he did wrong, or he could freak out even more because he didn't want his girlfriend to be gay.

Trey whirled around, catching Quinn's eye. "The bitch who's been staying in your room, visiting?" he asked for confirmation. Quinn gave it to him in the form of a nod.

His eyes flashed with a deadly look that Quinn had never witnessed before. Well, she'd seen something like it once, and that had been in the eyes of her father when he'd kicked her out of her house for being pregnant. She had always promised herself that she wouldn't follow in her mother's footsteps, that she wouldn't end up with a man capable of hurting her. She felt a sense of failure at this point, recognizing that was _exactly_ what she'd done- gotten into a relationship with a man whose violence lay dormant.

Trey advanced on her and pushed her harshly so she fell onto her back on the bed. He climbed on top of her and grabbed her by her wrists, holding them over top of her head. Quinn gasped and immediately attempted to wiggle out of his hold on her.

"What the hell are you doing, Trey?" Quinn asked, truly frightened by now. Trey started roughly kissing her neck, nipping with his teeth in between. He'd never been that aggressive in the bedroom before. This would surely leave bruises, and not just little hickies.

"You think you're leaving me for a _girl_? No way. You're not gay, Quinn. And I'm going to prove it to you," he growled, lowering his mouth to her collar bone and starting to remove her shirt.

"Trey, stop!" Quinn yelped, struggling to break free of Trey's hold on her hands. His body was pressed down on top of hers so she couldn't wiggle free. Quinn's heart rate was skyrocketing and she started hyperventilating. No, this couldn't be happening.

Trey made no response except to lift her shirt up enough that he could get at her breasts with his mouth. He couldn't get the shirt completely off because that would have required letting go of Quinn's hands to get it over her head. Quinn continued struggling and yelling at him to stop. She was scared- terrified- and it seemed that no one could hear her. No one would stop Trey from terrorizing her.

"Stop!" she yelled as Trey went for the zipper of her jeans followed by his own. Her crying out was joined with tears streaming down her face and a cracking voice. She was breaking down.

"I'm going to remind you that you're not gay. A girl could never satisfy you like I do. A scissor sandwich can only get you so far," he remarked crudely.

"Please! Please just stop!" Quinn cried out. At this point, Quinn heard the door bang open like a gunshot. She immediately began sobbing prayers.

"Get the _fuck_ off of her!" yelled the welcome intruder. It was Santana, Santana had come to rescue her. She had never been more happy that Santana didn't listen to her before in her life.

Santana ran full-speed at Trey and punched him in his partially-exposed balls. He let out a yelp and a stream of expletives, but Santana has already grabbed Quinn's hand and pulled her off the bed. Quinn was sobbing and relying heavily on Santana to help her along, but she was choking out the words "thank you" over and over even while continuing to hyperventilate. Santana said nothing- just moved them along.

She held onto Quinn with a vice-like grip. She would not allow any more harm to come to Quinn, no, never. She'd watched Quinn get hurt by Finn, Rachel, Shelby, her own parents… She wouldn't let Trey continue.

"You fucking bitch! I should show you too, you know. Both of you! Why can't you lesbos stick to your own kind instead of stealing straight girls?" Trey yelled out, beginning to follow. Santana forced Quinn to go faster to get away, Trey's words frightening her only because she was used to seeing the boy act calm and collected, so hearing him go wild was terrifying. A normally angry person going into a fit was one thing, but a calm person going into a rage was a lot worse. She knew that much from experience.

"Hey, listen you homophobe, if your mind is so closed, then why is your mouth so open?" Santana yelled over her shoulder as she pushed Quinn along, trying to keep as much distance between them and Trey as possible.

Santana had often relied on offensive words to protect herself in the past, so it couldn't hurt to add some now. It probably wasn't practical in this case, but it was her personal defense mechanism to keep herself sane. She needed to be the protector in this moment. Only a little bit further and they would be out in the open where there would be too many witnesses for Trey to try violence. The two girls would be able to disappear into the crowds of people.

"I guess that explains why your open mind has led to your open legs if that's the way you think," Try shot back. Santana growled at this and practically lifted Quinn up in an effort to get out of the almost completely empty building.

Finally, fresh air greeted them and Trey stayed at the doorway, watching the two girls meld into the streams of people going to and from their weekend activities. Santana had never been happier to be a part of the masses, to be far away from the center of attention.

"You'll never be happy living like this, Quinn! One day, you'll regret leaving me. I made you so fucking happy, and you threw that away," Trey yelled out before he lost track of the two girls completely. Santana looked over her shoulder every few steps.

Quinn didn't turn back once.

**END FLASHBACK**

As Quinn's story went on, her voice would falter at some points, but she would always take a deep breath, a sip of coffee, and continue on.

Rachel had put her arm around Quinn's shoulders when Quinn had started leaking tears partway through the painful retelling of her story. She rubbed her hand up and down Quinn's arm slowly.

"Since that day, I've never questioned being gay," Quinn admitted quietly. Rachel didn't know what to say to that, so she didn't say anything at all. She couldn't process the fact that Quinn's ex-boyfriend had tried to rape her. She also made a mental note to be nicer to Santana since without her Quinn might have been even worse off.

After another pause, Quinn spoke again. "Santana and I went to the public safety office on campus to report Trey, but they said that without any proof, they couldn't discipline Trey or prosecute him. They suggested I take a rape test, but that would have been useless since he didn't actually…" Quinn trailed off, trembling.

Rachel held her tighter, whispering words of comfort in her ear. "It's okay. He's gone. He's not going to hurt you ever again."

"I went to a therapist. She told me that I'd developed a fear of men," Quinn said. By now, she was blurting out random parts of her story, disorganized in how to go about it. "My mom walked in on me and Santana on a weekend that I came home to visit. She freaked out and told me she could no longer support me, that being gay was the last straw. So, Santana helped me pack up my stuff and I left, bringing as much as I could back to Yale for the rest of the semester. She cut me off of my college fund. I was homeless and jobless. I moved in with Santana for the next year, working as a waitress. The year after, Santana graduated and moved out and I moved out with her toward Columbus for her grad school."

Rachel listened intently. There was still one thing that didn't quite click. "But why stripping?" she asked softly.

Quinn looked up at her from the crook of her arm. "Three reasons- one I've already told you is that I'm good at it. Then there's the fact that it made a lot more money than waitressing so I'd be able to save up to go back to college. And the third… I was afraid of men, but I'm a Fabray, and as much as I've been disowned by them, Fabrays don't do fear," Quinn answered. "I started stripping because I'd be around men and I would force myself to get over the fear."

At this point, Rachel was conflicted. She felt deep compassion for Quinn and wanted to continue listening to her and comforting her, but another part of her wanted to run for the hills. Rachel wasn't sure if she could handle this. Quinn had much more emotional damage than Rachel could have ever imagined. She had been pregnant at 15, given her baby up for adoption, watched the father get into a relationship with the baby's new mother, been kicked out of her house, been abandoned by just about everyone, found out she was gay, almost been raped by her boyfriend, then kicked out again, and turned to stripping. Rachel was surprised Quinn was still living in an even somewhat stable lifestyle.

Her growing affections for Quinn were being tested and suddenly it wasn't all so easy. She wanted to give Quinn a therapist's phone number and kick her out of her house so she didn't have to deal with that much emotional baggage. But Santana's words rung in her head: _"Now, I don't know how much Quinn has told you about her past, but I know that she's yet to tell you some of the big details. Don't press her, but she probably will at some point, so if she does, you'd better be there for her one hundred percent when she starts talking about it. Okay?"_

Rachel swallowed hard, remembering how own response: "_I promise_."

"I'm not going anywhere, Quinn," Rachel promised quietly. Quinn closed her eyes and mouthed those words as if committing them to heart. Rachel leaned in to lay a tentative kiss on Quinn's forehead. It was going to be a struggle. Rachel couldn't very well back out, not now that Quinn had bared her soul so completely; not when she'd just promised to stay; not when she'd promised Santana the same.

Rachel felt her heart break for Quinn. She ached for her, ached to make it right somehow. Quinn was so special, so fragile on the inside, that she couldn't fathom how anyone she let inside would want to harm the treasure of her heart. Rachel wanted to cradle that heart, to hold it close and warm it up with the most genuine love she could muster.

Love. Yes, she did love Quinn Fabray, even if it wasn't a romantic love, at least not at this point . She wondered if it was possible to not love Quinn. She certainly didn't have a choice.

"Hey, why don't you go back to sleep for a little while?" Rachel suggested. Quinn nodded and went to crawl back onto the couch. "No, you're going to use your bed. The bed will be empty, so there's no reason for you not to use it."

"Fine. Thanks," Quinn mumbled, going into her room and shutting the door without another word.

Rachel let out a long sigh, wondering how it was possible for Quinn to go from being amazingly open to reduced to one-word sentences and door-slamming. She supposed it was just part of Quinn's defense mechanism- if she opened up and was afraid, she immediately clammed back up again to protect herself. Rachel found herself wondering what Quinn's therapist had made of everything, what their input would be about how the brain of Quinn Fabray functioned.

Well, that life story made her little girl-crush situation become much more complicated. She couldn't be attracted to someone that damaged; Kurt was right- she was getting herself into way too much with that. So Quinn's story had crushed her crush, right?

Rachel mentally ran through a list of things she liked about Quinn and found that she was still attracted to those specific things. Did she view Quinn differently than she had before? Well, it was hard not to. She had just learned that the girl had been through even more trauma than Rachel had initially been aware of, and that did, like it or not, color her perception of the girl. But it wasn't necessarily bad colors; she saw Quinn as even stronger than previously because she'd truly been knocked down at every turn only to get back up again. She couldn't imagine how Quinn was still functioning.

Attempted rape was no light matter. Neither was teen pregnancy, nor coming out as gay after being raised in a homophobic environment, nor the accident that had left Quinn in a wheelchair for a stint of time in their senior year.

Partway through all of the sifting through memories, both recent and not, left Rachel fighting back tears of sympathy and regret. She felt bad for Quinn, but she also regretted being a part of the force that tore her down. She'd told Quinn that she would never forgive her, and now she knew that she would have to try extra hard to prove that wasn't true at all. Not only had she forgiven Quinn, but she'd grown to like her as a friend and want her as more.

Quinn's life would make a wonderful musical, she was sure. A strong female lead that struggles with many hardships but comes out alive and well. Yes, it does make for a good story.

Rachel pulled out her phone and texted Santana.

**Quinn just told me her story. Can I meet with you sometime today? –Rachel**

It was within seconds that she got a response.

**Give it a day. She'll be afraid that you'll run off today. Stay with her. –Santana**

**Okay. –Rachel**

Rachel let out a sigh, knowing that she was going to be handling Quinn Fabray at her most vulnerable when she woke up. There was no instruction manual for this, no one to tell her how to deal with it when your ex-tormentor, current close friend, and crush tells you that she was almost raped by her ex-boyfriend when she broke up with him. Rachel wasn't sure that she was ready for this. She thought one last time about how she could run- she could leave right now and be gone before Quinn woke up. But then she would be letting Quinn down, and Santana too. It was so tempting to leave Quinn, to leave all of the drama associated with her, but Rachel had never backed down before because something was too hard, so she wasn't about to stop now.

**A/N: This was the big chapter that you were looking for, the answers. This isn't the end of the questions, of course, but now Quinn's finally told her story. Next chapter has Rachel and Quinn post-story as well as Rachel talking to Santana about important things.**

**I've been doing a lot of introspection recently which means I get bored and start writing instead, lucky for you. I already have the next chapter written and have started the one after that. I'm working ahead on my fanfiction, but I'm still doing my Calc homework at midnight the night before it's due… I've got my priorities as straight as Quinn Fabray. Take that as you will. Just review if you want the chapter faster!**


	15. Chapter 15

Quinn woke up two hours later. Rachel had been keeping herself occupied by watching the television, not knowing what else to do in a newly-unpacked house that wasn't hers. Quinn walked into the small living room area where Rachel was still watching TV and sat down beside her in silence for a moment.

"Hi," Rachel breathed out. She was nervous, so nervous, that she would do something wrong.

"Hey," Quinn replied, eyes glued to the television. Rachel knew that she couldn't actually be interested in it- the show was on commercial break- but she supposed it was easier than making eye contact.

Rachel let her go, both of them watching the rest of the show in companionable silence. When the show ended, Quinn finally spoke again. "Thank you. For, you know… still being here."

Rachel let a smile grow on her face. "Of course. I just finally got you in my city, so I'm not about to let any moment that I can still have you all to myself go to waste. Speaking of, what do you say we go for a walk around the city?" Rachel said lightly.

Quinn looked up to meet Rachel's eyes. Rachel saw a deep look in there, eyes that had seen pain, but retained that sliver of hope. Quinn was Rachel's Pandora's box- she'd opened her up and received messages of hurt, but at the bottom of it all, the underlying result and cause of everything, there was hope that refused to be squashed.

Quinn smiled, and Rachel thought that smile could shatter a thousands suns. "Yeah," she replied.

* * *

Rachel took Quinn's hand as they left the apartment so Quinn would have a physical reminder of the emotional reliability she could have in her. The two walked through the city aimlessly at first, commenting on shops and things that they passed along the way.

They people-watched. Quinn would point out a couple or a mom and kids or anyone, and Rachel would come up with a story for them. Some of the stories were funny, some were sad, some were short, and some went on for a few minutes, adding more and more as she saw fit.

They ended up in Central Park in a fit of giggles, conjoined hands between them swinging back and forth as they skipped through the park. The trees were changing colors, and Rachel bent over to pick up a pretty yellow one that had just fallen from the sky. She stopped to twist the stem into Quinn's hair with her unoccupied hand. After she'd placed it, Quinn grasped her other hand, now holding both of them, standing with about a foot between the two of them. There they stood under multi-colored trees, there own rainbow of promise, together in Central Park, surrounded by people from a distance who were completely unconcerned.

Rachel couldn't read her expression, but she found herself trying anyway, like staring at an ancient text in a dead language and admiring the shape of the characters while being unable to interpret the meaning behind the shapes. Quinn wanted to say something, Rachel concluded, but the blonde couldn't get the words to escape her throat into the light autumn air. So Rachel waited. She didn't want to be anywhere else in the world than holding hands with a speechless Quinn Fabray who still had a yellow leaf tucked into her hair.

When she finally did speak, Rachel had expected her to mention something about how she was grateful that Rachel didn't run off. Instead, she said, "I'm happy you skipped Addy's bachelorette party that night."

And Rachel beamed, because it was somehow even more meaningful than another thank you for staying and listening. That thank you would imply that she hadn't expected Rachel to stick around. This statement from Quinn, however, was thanking fate, perhaps, for allowing them to encounter one another and present them with the second (fifteenth) chance that both of them seemed to desperately need.

"I've never been so happy to listen to Puck's advice," Rachel admitted. Quinn gave her a brilliant smile.

"I can't say the same," she said, but it wasn't biting. She was referring to her pregnancy without a caustic tone, and that was something, surely.

They walked through the park some more, turning the topic of their conversation back to happier things, like what kind of dog each of them had always wanted, and what their recent favorite songs were.

Even when they got back to Rachel's apartment, Quinn still had that stupid leaf in her hair.

* * *

They ate a simple lunch of sandwiches because neither of them wanted to leave the house again at the moment.

"Though I respect your choices to continue your omnivorous tendencies, I do have to say that I find your sandwich to be mildly disgusting all the same," Rachel commented on Quinn's monster of a sandwich.

"What? It's not that bad," Quinn defended her creation, subconsciously wrapping her hand around as much of it as she could.

"Quinn, you have two different forms of pig meat on it, and that is not the only meat," Rachel pointed out. It was true- Quinn had ham, bacon, and turkey lunchmeat on her sandwich. In her defense, she hadn't eaten breakfast and this was a fairly late lunch.

"Whatever. You're just jealous," Quinn shrugged.

Rachel gave her a look of indignation; she did indignation well. "I am most certainly not jealous that you have pieces of dead animals on your sandwich, if you can even call your meal that," Rachel scoffed.

Quinn took another large bite of her sandwich, chewed, swallowed, and stuck her tongue out at the brunette. Rachel rolled her eyes at Quinn's childishness, but she couldn't help but find the immature gesture cute. It was infuriating.

* * *

After eating, the two decided to have a movie marathon. Quinn was horrified at Rachel's lack of movie exposure, so she pulled up Netflix and showed Rachel some of her favorites. Rachel hated some of them, but she watched them anyway, adding her own commentary as they went.

"I fail to understand how this movie even exists," Rachel groaned when Quinn put on a horrendous science fiction movie that looked like it was made by broke high school kids in an A/V club.

"It's a classic! It set the standard for every bad movie that would follow!" Quinn exclaimed. Rachel watched as another plot hole took place that she couldn't even fathom.

"I don't get it. That plane has no controls in the cockpit," Rachel pointed out.

"I know. Just make fun of it as we go- I promise it'll be more fun that way," Quinn explained. And so they did, ending up in stitches at just how awful Plan 9 from Outer Space was.

After that atrocious movie was finished, Rachel insisted that they watch a musical because Quinn avoided that genre of movie like the plague. She even offered Quinn the choice of a musical from her broad selection. Quinn, ever the difficult one, picked Phantom of the Opera, which sort of defeated Rachel's purpose of exposing Quinn to new musicals, but she relented.

Rachel was surprise by how easy it was to just spend time with Quinn. There was so much history between the two- both good and bad- that it was a huge ball of complicated, but somehow they could do this spending time together thing. It made Rachel's heart soar with hope.

By the time dinner rolls around, Rachel's asking Quinn if she'd rather eat in again or go out. Quinn opts that they order in some Chinese food and just relax, which Rachel understood.

"So tell me, what song are you going to sing for your audition for Frankie?" Quinn asked as the two of them sit cross-legged on the couch facing each other. It feels a little bit like college to Rachel- eating semi-crappy takeout with a friend, both of them barefoot and sitting in a small apartment. The only difference was Rachel had usually only done that sort of thing with Kurt while she was in college.

"Do you even have to ask?" Rachel questioned in return, a mischievous expression taking over her face.

"Oh, come on. Humor me," Quinn pushed.

"Fine. I'm doing _Don't Rain on My Parade_, just like you would want me to," Rachel sighed with exaggeration. Quinn smacked her playfully on the arm.

"Hey, it's not my fault that you absolutely light up a room when you sing it," Quinn defended herself. Rachel felt a light blush on her face. Quinn would say things like that sometimes, complimentary things, as if they were just well-known facts. It made Rachel's head spin a little and her heart flutter. She wanted to giggle like a schoolgirl, but Quinn had known the schoolgirl version of Rachel Berry, and giggling wasn't exactly her thing even back then. Okay, so she'd giggled… but it wasn't a constant habit.

"I guess everyone has a song that makes their personality just shine through," Rachel downplayed. "For you, the time you sang _It's A Man's Man's World_ pops into my head."

Quinn gave a thoughtful look. "That was a while ago," she commented.

"You know, we haven't sung together in a long time," Rachel noted, thinking about how she had a habit of singing with just about anyone in her life. It was almost odd that she hadn't sung with Quinn since high school, especially considering that she knew Quinn had a good voice.

Quinn's face got a little dark at that. "I haven't sung in a long time," she replied. Rachel wondered why her mentioning singing would upset Quinn, but she decided to drop the topic. Quinn had enough of hard topics for the day.

"Do you… would you mind listening to me sing? Just to get, you know, some feedback," Rachel asked, biting her lip. She was nervous and she wasn't quite sure why. Quinn had heard her sing probably hundreds of times before and she'd even heard her sing this specific song in question.

Quinn's dark face was lit up by her own personal sun that she called a smile. "Of course- I'd love to." Rachel took a few deep breaths to compose herself as she stood up and put down her near-empty carton of Chinese food.

"_Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter…_" Rachel began. She found it so easy to slip into the character of this song. Quinn looked on with rapt attention, her eyes never once wavering from Rachel's expressive face as she sang.

When Rachel reached the final line, she broke into a grin at seeing Quinn's face. Quinn looked like she was completely happy to be there. "Your voice still manages to amaze me after all these years," Quinn admitted. Rachel just pulled her into a hug. She didn't even know how to respond.

When the two sat back down on the couch and returned to their food, Rachel couldn't hold in all of her thoughts any longer. "Do you ever feel like a moment in time is just right? Like you wouldn't change it for the world?" she blurted out.

Quinn tilted her head slightly. "I'm not sure I would change any moment. If I did, I might not end up where I am now. And I know that may be hard to imagine, considering all you know about my past, but I've accepted my mistakes. If I was thrust into the past, I would still sleep with Puck because it brought about the most beautiful little girl. I would still answer your text that caused me to crash because being in that accident taught me what it means to value life. I would still date Trey because most of our relationship was alright, and being with him just made me stronger. I would still date Santana because it taught me a hell of a lot."

Rachel wanted to gape at the woman across from her, hardly believing what she was hearing. That was the closest Quinn had come to actually talking about Beth since high school. And it was the first time in their whole day together that they brought up the morning's topic again.

"I'm not saying that I don't regret some things, of course, but everyone has to make mistakes. They've made me who I am," Quinn concluded.

"I'm so proud of you, Quinn. I'm not sure if I've ever actually told you that outright or not," Rachel said. Quinn smiled. "I know you mentioned before that you were seeing a therapist, but I'm assuming that was either in New Haven or Lima. Either way, you wouldn't still be seeing them considering the distance that now lies between you and those two locations… What I'm trying to do is ask if you would think about going to see a therapist again."

"I've thought about it. It's been a while since my last appointment, and by a while I mean years. But… I think I'd like to," Quinn said quietly. Rachel was thrilled; she had been happy that Quinn was opening up to her and talking about her past, but Rachel was no where near qualified to actually help Quinn work through it all in an efficient way. She'd be there to listen to and support Quinn, of course, but a therapist is just another facet in a support system, not a replacement.

Rachel picked up their trash from dinner to throw out but hesitated before going to the kitchen.

"Do you want me to throw that out?" Rachel asked, pointing to a spot in Quinn's hair just behind her left ear.

"Nope." And so the leaf stayed.

* * *

Quinn left that night after dinner. Rachel didn't sleep well that night, dreaming of a tall and muscular brunette man with strong hands and a violent disposition. She wondered if Quinn still dreamed of him.

The next evening, Rachel agreed to have Santana come over to her apartment. She had told Santana to arrive at 6, but apparently Santana wasn't very good with time or manners since she walked into Rachel's apartment at 6:30 without knocking.

"Is knocking beneath you?" Rachel asked upon the Latina's entrance.

Santana shrugged. "If you don't want people to walk right in your door, you should use the lock that came with it," she returned. Rachel had no appropriate response to that.

Santana had walked into Rachel's kitchen now and began pouring herself a glass of apple juice, to which Rachel didn't comment because she honestly expected nothing less than the girl to make herself at home.

"So Q told you everything?" Santana asked rhetorically. Rachel didn't answer, though it took everything in her not to. "And you didn't run off. Good on you, Berry."

Rachel wanted to be offended at the backhanded compliment, but she just took it at face value. "It was a little difficult to hear, if I'm being completely honest with you, and I don't see any reason not to be. You are her best friend, after all, and you've already heard- well, experienced- the tale firsthand."

Santana grunted and guzzled some juice. "You betcha. Look, as you know, I'm not exactly thrilled with your presence…" Santana trailed off.

Rachel couldn't help but react with a sarcastic gasp. "You mean you hate me?" she demanded dramatically, hand flying up to cover her chest. Never let it be said that Rachel Berry would pass up on a chance to do some dramatic and cheesy acting.

"I'm not saying I hate you… I'm just not that thrilled when your existence intersects with mine," Santana corrected.

"That's so much better," Rachel snarked. Santana gave her I-don't-give-two-shits face and poured another glass of juice.

"Look, you're the one that texted me asking to talk. If you don't like how I do the advice thing, then you can go talk to a headshrinker. God knows you could use something to deflate that big head of yours," Santana gibed. It didn't really have any substance to it though and Rachel knew Santana enjoyed insulting people, even when she really cared for them.

"Fine. I am just not certain what I can look forward to happening in this situation. Do you believe that Quinn will continue to be open with me, or do you find it more likely that she will withdraw back into herself now that she's made herself vulnerable around me?" Rachel inquired.

Santana put down the glass she'd been drinking out of, now empty again. "Girl, just looking at your _face_ makes her vulnerable," Santana quipped. "Though, honestly, it just makes me a little bit nauseous knowing that I'll be watching you on the award shows soon."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Rachel replied. "But really, do you think that you could take this conversation somewhat seriously, bearing in mind that this is about your best friend's heart here?" she reprimanded.

Santana let out a sigh, complying. "I know, I know. I'm just winding you up because it's too damn fun. In all seriousness, Quinn is a big girl and she's very strong, but sometimes she forgets that. She might fight you tooth and nail when you ask her the simplest questions some days when others she'll break down in your arms and tell you the exact emotions she felt the day she came out to her mom."

"I've known Q for almost two decades, and she's always been stubborn. She will really only bend to someone that forces her too, not someone who just asks nicely. That's why I've been her closest friend for pretty much her whole life. Brittany can sometimes get her to open up a bit, but that's because Britt's special and can guess at what people are thinking half the time just by looking at them. She also still can't tell her left from her right without making an L with her fingers.

"The relationship between the three of us has been strained at some points, which you know well, but we always end up back together. Thing is, even just in our group of three, I was the only one who would push Quinn to do what she needed to, even when she didn't want to. As much as I hate to compare you to me, because face it, you'll never be on my level, you've got some of those stubborn mule qualities that I do. And that's what Q needs," Santana said, going on for quite a while. Rachel was impressed- she hadn't known that Santana was quite so attentive to Quinn's disposition and needs. She always knew that Santana was good to Quinn for the majority of the time, but she hadn't realized just how much the two relied on each other.

"And you love her," Rachel said. She wasn't honestly sure which girl she was referring too- Santana had mentioned both Brittany and Quinn in her monologue.

Santana apparently shared in the confusion. "Which one?"

"Both, I suppose, but I think I was referring mostly to Brittany," Rachel decided.

Santana rubbed the back of her neck, a sort of gesture Rachel wasn't used to from the Latina. "I do," she verified softly. Rachel's eyes widened- she hadn't been expecting Santana to drop her caustic façade and actually respond truthfully. "What? Don't act so surprised, hobbit. Finn outed me to the entire town back in high school as being in lesbians with Britts."

"I was more shocked that you were being honest and not sarcastic," Rachel commented.

"Whatever. I've been wanting to talk to someone about it anyway, and Q's got her own shit to deal with recently thanks to you," Santana shot back. Ah, there was a good defense mechanism if Rachel had ever seen one- deflecting onto the person she'd just been about to open up to. "You know what? Fuck it. You're getting my shit whether or not you want it because I had to give you the secrets of dealing with Quinn, so you listening to me about Brittany can be calling it even."

Rachel nodded, and Santana continued. "Two nights ago we- well I already told you that we had sex on your couch. Sorry about that, but it was that or your bed," Santana sort of apologized, glancing at the offending object. Rachel allowed that to slip for the moment. "Anyway, we did do some talking after, and she told me how she missed me and I told her the same. Thing is, I'm not sure if we can handle being in a real relationship, like, one that's not just sex. I know I love her, but I'm not sure if she still loves me."

Rachel had to contain her laughter. Santana was really that blind that she couldn't see that Brittany loved her, loved her so much? "Santana… Brittany loves you. Before you tell me that I don't know that for sure, I can tell you that I really do, and I have two pieces of evidence. One, I talked to her at the reception, same night that I talked to you, and I could tell that she missed you then. I talked to her again too, and she asked me about you. She also got very sad and told me that you wanted her but wouldn't have her."

Santana pondered that. "What do I do?" she asked. Rachel slowly shook her head.

"That's up to you. I think if you've grown up enough to know that she's always been willing to do just about anything to be with you. Just remember, we did make bucket list promises," Rachel reminded her of their conversation of having sex in a church being on Brittany and Santana's bucket list.

Santana laughed. "You're not bad, Berry."

Rachel smiled back but took on a serious note. "I'd listen anyway, Santana. You know that, right?" Rachel added on.

"Save the sappy shit for Quinn. She'll lap it right up."

"I'll keep that in mind," Rachel said, catching the double entendre . Santana groaned.

"I swear, you are a teenage boy after my innocent little girl," Santana complained.

"Hey, last time I made the analogy of you being like Quinn's father you accused me of being difficult. Why is it that we keep coming back to the 'me supposedly asking you for permission to date Quinn' thing?" Rachel asked, appreciating the irony that she really would like to ask that.

"Because Quinn's gay and I find gay jokes hilarious," Santana said with no shame. Rachel wondered if this was the same girl who had just been admitting to her struggles in her own lesbian romance. The maturity did not carry over. But her not-so-secret big heart did.

**A/N: Next time: How will Kurt feel about Rachel's revelations? Will Quinn act how Santana predicted? Will Santana crack more gay jokes?** **The answer to all of those questions is pie.**

**I am dealing with a shit-ton of emotions right now, and it comes out of me in the weirdest of ways. For an example, see above part of my author's note. I am prone to ridiculous-ness. Call it my defense mechanism, whatever. You can make a good thing out of my inner turmoil because it means I write more for you to read. Well, that coupled with getting feedback. It's what makes my engine run.**

**If any of you want to drop a review with advice on things to include, don't be shy. Even if it's just a word you want me to find a way to include in the next chapter. I had a friend give me a random word for my first essay of college, and I proceeded to use it in every single essay of that semester. I'm up for a challenge, to say the least.**

**Review for virtual pie.**


	16. Chapter 16

The week passes by, and Rachel couldn't ever remember being so busy since college. She was frantically preparing for her audition which was now in a few days. She was running through Don't Rain on My Parade like her life depended on it as well as a few backup songs just in case Frankie and his people wanted to hear some more. She was going over some basic dance routines. She was working out extra just to get back into a rigorous routine. And on top of that, she had a social life.

She still spent time with Kurt and Michael, but now she was also spending time with Quinn, Santana, and Brittany. She saw Quinn during the afternoons as much as possibly since Quinn had started working at the strip club during the nights. She would visit Santana and Brittany on nights that she wasn't with Kurt and Michael, and once so far the four of them had gotten together for dinner. Quinn hadn't been able to make it, but Rachel was content with the fact that she saw Quinn a couple times and talked to her everyday.

Tonight Rachel had decided that it was time for her to go to the strip club to visit Quinn at work. Quinn had told her new boss that Rachel liked to watch, after all. Rachel wanted to check up on how the place really was during the rowdy times of a Friday night. She was still worried about Quinn working as a stripper even after hearing Quinn's reasoning. She'd seen Quinn freak out at a guy that reminded her of Trey dancing with her, so what might happen if a guy like that tried to get handsy with her at the club?

But before going, Rachel was going over to Kurt's to run through her audition song for him to critique. She valued his feedback more than anyone's because he wouldn't just be impressed with her abilities since he'd heard her sing so often and he wasn't afraid to give her harsh and necessary criticism that she needed to get any better.

After she was done singing, she and Kurt started talking. "I feel like we're having a mini Glee reunion in New York these days," he commented, both of them sitting down.

"Well, it's just five of us you know. And I swear to God, if you suggest that we have a karaoke night with just us, I will have to politely smack you because that would _not_ end well," Rachel countered. Kurt smiled mischievously.

"But which five is important. Speaking of, how is it having Quinn live in the same city as you?" Kurt asked.

Rachel thought about that. She was certainly happy to be so close to Quinn; it definitely facilitated their friendship, but she knew that wasn't exactly what Kurt was asking about. "If you're asking if my feelings for Quinn have changed, the answer would be yes," Rachel replied carefully.

Kurt's eyes narrowed like he was staring down an opponent. Rachel knew that look well from the days he would be fighting her for solos in Glee. Rachel didn't particularly want to talk about her feelings for Quinn with Kurt because she already knew he disapproved of the notion, but she really had no one else to tell. She had five close friends but she couldn't talk to any of them about Quinn but Kurt. She couldn't very well tell Santana or Brittany because their devotion lay to Quinn first, and she couldn't tell Michael because he would end up telling Kurt anyway. Plus, he didn't know Quinn very well or the history that came with that.

"Do you mean that you've decided you don't have a crush on her anymore?" Kurt asked suspiciously. Rachel's lip quirked upwards a bit.

"That would be accurate, yes," she responded dubiously. Kurt stalked around the counter between them to stand right in front of her.

"Sweetie, you'd better start being more straight with your answers than both of us are with our sexualities because it's going to give me a headache," Kurt said firmly.

Here goes.

"I think that my feelings for Quinn have progressed to a place beyond a simple crush," Rachel confessed, keeping her voice strong and just going for it. Kurt did not look thrilled, but to his credit he did manage to not look disappointed.

"Okay," Kurt said slowly, keeping a straight face.

Rachel was frustrated. "Okay? Is that all you have to say?"

Kurt's face gained creases of irritation. "What do you want me to say? Do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to try to make you feel better?" he questioned with a hint of sarcasm.

Rachel stood up ramrod straight. "I'd like for you to be a _friend_, Kurt. Why do you think I always come to you to practice before auditions? It's because I know you'll tell me straight, and it might hurt at the time, but it's worth it because you help me see reality."

Kurt did not admonished in the slightest, instead appearing spurred on. "Fine. I think that you're getting into deep shit with Quinn Fabray. She's a bit of a basket case, always has been. Her dad made her that way by raising her like it was the military school of being a socialite. I believe that she's gay, that she always had been, but repressing that part of who she is for so long and _hard_ like she did doesn't come without consequences. She probably doesn't really know how to trust people anymore considering what happened sophomore year," Kurt gave Rachel his opinion with brutal honesty.

"I'll have you know that she _does_ know how to trust people. She's told me about her past, things that she's only ever told Santana before," Rachel defended. Like it or not, she needed this. She needed someone to play Devil's Advocate with or else she might find herself spiraling headfirst into a situation without thinking, just following wherever her heart pulled her.

"Oh yeah? And if her past has been so traumatic, do you really think she needs someone that was involved in parts of said past pronouncing romantic intentions for her? Do you think she's ready for a real relationship, with you of all people?" Kurt asked harshly. He was standing too now.

That blow hurt. Rachel's mouth hung open in surprise at just how much Kurt's words stung her. She knew there was only one reason that it would hurt her so much- he was right. She took in a deep breath and closed her mouth.

Kurt visibly backed down upon seeing Rachel's reaction. "Look, Rachel, I don't want you to think that I'm trying to push you away from Quinn. I'm just telling you what you need to hear if you're really considering pursuing her," he continued in a much gentler tone. Rachel looked down at her feet, not able to look him in the eye.

"What if it's not my decision?" she asked quietly. She didn't look up to see Kurt's expression of confusion.

"Do you mean… are you asking about if Quinn decides to pursue you?" he questioned.

Rachel shook her head in the negative. "I mean that I've never really felt like I've had a choice when it comes to Quinn, not even back in high school. I never had any choice but to forgive her for what she'd done to me, even the most awful of things. I never had any choice but to wish that she would be my friend, to try to make her be my friend. And now… I have no choice but to lo- want her," Rachel confessed, her voice breaking.

Kurt sighed and sat down, tapping Rachel's hand to tell her to sit down next to him. The two of them take some time breathing in tandem, reminding themselves to stay calm.

"Take your time with this, okay? Can you at least promise me that you won't go jumping into Quinn's arms the first time they're open?" Kurt pleaded. Rachel wanted to laugh because the notion sounded ridiculous, but she knew that it really wasn't, not for her. She'd done it to Finn and she'd done it to Jesse. Sometimes she wished Kurt didn't know her so well.

"I promise. I've learned my lesson about that," Rachel said sincerely. She really had changed: her never-getting-past-the-second date romantic life was surely proof of just how far she'd taken her caution.

"Good," Kurt said with a curt (ha, she smiled at her internal pun) nod. "Now, Michael made a pie and left it for me in the fridge and I've got two forks."

* * *

Rachel left Kurt's after ten and arrived at the strip club shortly. She ended up standing in front of the club for a good couple of minutes doing her breathing exercises in an attempt to calm herself down and convince herself to go in.

_Come on, Berry. Grow a set and walk in the strip club._ Funny, her inner self-ass-kicking voice sounded a little much like Santana for her liking. _I am not even physically capable of "growing a set" without extensive gender reassignment surgery._ Rachel argued with her ass-kicking voice, but it was pointless. She took one last deep, cleansing breath and walked into the strip club.

Once inside, she saw much familiarity- the lights were low and had a slight red tint. There was a mostly filled-up bar area and many tables surrounding a stage in the middle of the place with three poles. All three poles were occupied. Rachel watched the three women's bodies slide with fluidity and she felt an uncomfortable heat.

Rachel got closer so that she could make out the recognizable figure of Quinn occupying the center pole. Rachel sat down at the closest table she could find to the stage and waited to catch Quinn's eye.

Watching Quinn move was absolutely mesmerizing. Her body seemed to have a lack of breaking points when it came to flexibility. Rachel had seen the girl dance before, of course, both back in the days of Glee and cheerleading and also briefly that day with Puck at the strip club back in Ohio, but this was a full dance that she was witnessing and it was nothing like high school. Quinn was wearing a tight-fitting top and lacy black underwear, apparently already having lost her skirt, that is if she had been wearing one to begin with. It wasn't until Quinn turned once more that she made eye contact with Rachel.

When their eyes met, it was like something clicked into place. Quinn's fairly neutral face morphed into one with sultry eyes and a sexy smirk, her tongue poking out from between her lips for a flash. She held the stare as she reached up to undo a zipper on the back of her corset-type top. When it hit the stage, Rachel could have sworn she felt the gust of air made from its contact. She actually wished she could have some more air because the club felt rather stifling.

Rachel wondered if Quinn's hazel eyes would ever leave hers because it seemed like the two of them had entered their own private moment.

When the dance was over and the song changed, Quinn walked off the stage and toward a set of doors in the back of the club where someone handed her a robe. Rachel, not knowing what else to do, followed. She was stopped at the door by a rather large man with a buzz cut, the same guy who had just handed Quinn a robe.

"Hey, no guests allowed back with the girls. You want to touch the merchandise, try a different club," he said gruffly. Rachel didn't know whether to feel offended that he referred to the girls as merchandise or relived that he was adamant that there would be no touching by the guests.

"You don't understand, I know her, Quinn," Rachel explained. The guy just laughed.

"I bet you do. She visit your dreams at night or something?" he laughed off her explanation. Rachel started to get frustrated, but again, she was happy there was security to protect Quinn. Apparently the manager had taken notice of what was happening because he came up to Rachel and the burly security guy.

"You can stand down, Chuck. She's telling the truth- this is Quinn's girl," the manager addressed the security guy. Rachel realized that she didn't even know his name. "Just don't get too rowdy in there, alright?"

"Thank you," Rachel said, ignoring the man's wink that accompanied his sexual comment. Chuck allowed her entrance to the back room where she found Quinn alone in a room filled with easily-removable clothing and bottles of glitter and hair accessories. Suddenly Rachel felt completely out of place.

"Rachel, I wasn't expecting you tonight," Quinn greeted her with a smile.

"I thought I would surprise you and just check in," Rachel replied. "Plus I know it's just about time for your early shift to be done, and Santana wanted to go out for a couple drinks with us and Brittany."

Quinn's eyes lit up at the mention of her two friends. "I'd love that. I just want to shower and change into something a little more appropriate for drinks," Quinn said.

Rachel watched as Quinn made her way over to a small bathroom area that presumably had a shower inside. There was a hook next to the bathroom door and Quinn stepped out of her robe and hung it on the hook, giving Rachel a nice view of Quinn's ass. The singer knew that Quinn was most likely teasing her. Quinn then entered the bathroom and Rachel could hear the shower being turned on.

"You know, Collin's been asking when you were going to show up," Quinn made conversation through the closed bathroom door. She was naked. Rachel felt fifteen again at the thought, but on the other side of that door, she knew that Quinn Fabray was absolutely naked.

"Who's Collin?" Rachel asked instead of voicing her inner thoughts of nudity.

"Really, you were never formally introduced? He's the owner," Quinn replied. Rachel swallowed hard, wondering idly what type of shampoo Quinn was using. Thinking about those specifics was fine, anything but focusing on the specifics of _Quinn_. "I told him I wasn't sure if you'd get the courage to come at all."

Rachel wondered what she was supposed to be doing at the moment. She was just standing in the middle of the backroom of a strip club. Come to think of it, she was lucky that none of the other strippers had come back here. That could make things awkward, especially if the general consensus at this joint was that Quinn and Rachel were dating. Collin had implied that the two of them were about to have sex in the backroom. Oh God, what if someone walked in and expected that? What would Rachel say?

"You're quiet," Quinn observed. Rachel tried to clear her head of those thoughts, but her mind only snapped back to the fact that Quinn was naked. "You know, it's not very polite to not answer when someone's talking to you." Rachel could her a teasing tone in her voice.

"Do you always give lessons on manners while naked?" Rachel questioned. She could hear Quinn's laughter echoing off the shower walls.

"So you're thinking about me naked," Quinn pointed out.

"Well I didn't very well think that you showered with clothing on," Rachel scoffed. Two could play at this game.

* * *

The two of them met up with Santana and Brittany at the same bar as last time. A few drinks in, and the conversation was rolling along quite well.

"I gotta say, I'm not too impressed with your city so far, Rachel. I saw a man peeing against the bank today. _Peeing_. In public. I've seen enough penises in my day, and seeing one take a piss in the grimy streets? Not on my list." Santana complained.

"This isn't my city, and it's not my fault," Rachel defended.

"Hey, you called it your city just yesterday!" Quinn called her out.

"Hush now," Rachel said with a wave of her hand in Quinn's direction. It was true, but she didn't need Santana to know these things.

Their topics of conversation varied considerably and anytime they would stay on one topic for too long, Brittany would always change it. Rachel was just happy to see Brittany and Santana getting along and especially thrilled to see Santana make some moves, like holding Brittany's hand or ordering her drinks for her. She was paying close attention to the blonde dancer, and that was a good step for her.

"So, how did Berry handle the news when you came out to her?" Santana asked. The topic went to sexuality, as it happened to on occasion.

"She was…" Quinn trailed off, looking to Rachel for an answer.

Rachel remembered back to that day. "I was significantly astounded, but I tried my best to reign it in. I mean, the last time I'd talked to her was in high school where she was all over any attractive boy."

"I wasn't surprised when Q came out. It was obvious," Brittany commented. Rachel wasn't surprised- Brittany had some great gaydar.

"She puts the "Q" in LGBTQ," Santana added with a snigger. Quinn smacked her on the arm. "What? I've admitted that I like gay jokes, especially when they star former Celibacy Club captain Quinn Fabray. The fact that she's gay is hilarious." Rachel wondered how someone so out and proud herself at this point could still find gay jokes to be funny, but this was Santana.

The four girls were now talking about Kurt and Michael's relationship and placing bets on who would propose to who. They were split two and two- Rachel and Brittany both thought that Michael would ask, whereas Quinn and Santana placed their bets on Kurt.

"Besides, what would any of us know about marriage? Berry's the one who got closest," Santana argued, deciding that she wouldn't put any actual money on the bet.

"Um, actually… I've been married before," Brittany corrected. The other three stared at her in disbelief. "Twice," she added on. Again, no one knew what to say to that. Santana looked like she was about to smash her drink against the bar. "I lived a few hours from Vegas…"

"You're a divorcee?" Santana questioned, not being able to hide her shock.

"Well I had to get divorced to marry the second one, didn't I?" Brittany replied. Seeing Santana's petrified look, Quinn stepped in.

"B, I think Santana wants to know if you divorced the second one too," Quinn said gently.

At that, Brittany brightened. "Oh, yeah! We got divorced the next day. We were really drunk that night and I'd just met her and she was really hot and kissed like Santana, so I wanted to marry her, but the next day I realized that she couldn't dance, so we got divorced," Brittany explained. That seemed to placate Santana significantly.

"You know, I can dance," Santana boasted. Brittany smiled and pulled the jealous Latina out of her seat and toward the dance floor.

"Who would've thought that Brittany would have gotten married?" Rachel mused.

"Well, she has always made sort of impulsive decisions like that without thinking of the consequences. Plus, I don't think she views a Vegas wedding as a real wedding. Actually, I think that she honestly doesn't take any idea of marriage seriously if it's not with Santana. She thinks they… don't count," Quinn said. Rachel shook her head in mild disbelief at how sure the blonde dancer was of her love of Santana.

Rachel focused on Quinn again. "I want to have someone like Brittany," Rachel admitted. In her mind, she was thinking of the similarities between Brittany and Quinn. "Athletic, a good dancer, blonde, so incredibly sweet…"

She watched Quinn's face turn to that of delicate confusion before just smirking. "You're going to go for a blonde now, huh? I guess you've had enough of shitty brunette guys like Finn, Puck, and Jesse."

"Quite enough," Rachel agreed, silently adding on that she was feeling rather done with guys altogether. She had a romantic interest in someone, and they were hardly brunette, male, or at all like the three people just mentioned. And they were sitting right in front of her. Rachel found herself studying Quinn's face.

And then Quinn's phone rang. Both girls looked down at it to see Puck's name flash on the caller ID, but Quinn hit ignore immediately with a look of disappointment. "I need a breath of fresh air, be back in a bit," Quinn mumbled, leaving the bar.

Rachel didn't know what else to do, so she followed Quinn. Quinn turned around the corner to an alley between the bar and the neighboring building an leaned against the wall, letting her head fall back against the concrete.

Rachel stumbled toward her, feeling the effects of the alcohol in her system affecting her balance. "Rachel, I didn't ask you to follow me," Quinn commented with a bit of dismay that didn't have her heart in it.

"I know, but I came anyway," Rachel responded, making her way over to Quinn.

"Why?" Quinn asked harshly. The singer was now right in front of Quinn when she stumbled again, bracing herself against the wall behind Quinn, their bodies now barely separated by just a thin stretch of night air.

"Déjà vu," Rachel whispered, referring to that night when she'd first reconnected with Quinn and the girl had pushed her up against a wall.

Quinn looked so incredibly unsure about everything that was going on, so visibly upset, and Rachel just wanted to make her worries go away. She studied the blonde's pink lips one last time before leaning forward to connect their lips in a kiss.

**A/N: Oh daaaaaamn. Rachel did the-thing-she-wasn't-supposed-to-do. Tsk, tsk…**

**Next time: How will Quinn respond to being kissed by Rachel? Will Rachel admit her feelings? What's going on with Quinn's ignoring Puck? Will Kurt dance the Macarena?**

**I wish. Next chappie will see the girls getting to their drama. I've had the next scene written since before I even started this story, so I've been just as anxious as you guys to get to it.**

**Review if you care. Just saying. Oh, and sorry for the cliffhanger… Hehe.**


	17. Chapter 17

Before Rachel even had a chance to register that Quinn's lips were very soft and perfect, Quinn had pushed her away violently.

"What the _hell_?!" Quinn growled.

Rachel blinked at her, covering her mouth with a hand, realizing with a bit of horror that she had indeed just kissed Quinn Fabray. And Quinn was furious. She had to fix this.

"I think I might lo-" Rachel started to say. But Quinn's angry voice cut through her announcement.

"No. You don't get to say that. Not when you're not sure. Not when I've been waiting to hear those words. Not when it would be something you could just retract by saying you only thought you did," Quinn said hotly. Rachel was astounded. Quinn was implying that… that she wanted Rachel to love her, but she had to be sure about it.

"Fine. Then I-" Rachel started to correct herself. But Quinn was having none of that.

"No. You don't get to say that yet either. You aren't sure yet, and I don't want you to throw out those words like they're nothing. Those words happen to mean a lot to me, considering I've only ever said and meant them three times," Quinn said, now pacing back and forth in the alley. This was a disaster; this was worse than any of the other times they'd ever fought because this time it really was her fault and she knew it.

"Who…? I guess I don't have a right to know," Rachel whispered, now starting to feel a little ashamed. She was drunk, she was _still_ drunk, and she had just made an incredibly rash decision to just go ahead and kiss Quinn. She always did act more on her feelings when she was drunk.

"You're right, you don't," Quinn agreed with anger. "But because I make bad decisions all the time, I'll make another and tell you anyway- Noah, Santana, and Beth," Quinn admitted. Rachel felt her heart start to sink.

"You love Noah? I thought you were gay, not bisexual," Rachel asked, genuinely confused at this point. She had seen Quinn screen Puck's call just moments ago. Not only that, but she distinctly remembered Santana getting upset that Puck knew where Quinn used to work. There was something going on here, something that was bigger than Rachel's scope of the situation.

"I love him because he's the father of my child and I care about more than any other guy in the world, more than only three other people in the world," Quinn said, leaving it only just as open as before. Still that lucky number three. Rachel was way out of her depth here and she knew if she had any sense at all that she should just start apologizing and backtracking.

But her damn mouth got the best of her. "I'm guessing you shouldn't tell me those three names either?"

"No, I really shouldn't, but again, I make poor choices. One would be Beth, like I've already mentioned, Santana, and the other would be you," Quinn confessed, not looking at Rachel at all. She was looking at the streetlights, at the side of the bar, at anything that could possibly take up her attention visually. Rachel felt like the elephant in the room in her own conversation and it hurt a little, though she also knew it was well-deserved.

When Quinn finally did meet her gaze with Rachel, her stare was challenging, as if she expected Rachel to laugh or run away or do _something_ to reject the reality of her love. As if. Rachel had just attempted to admit love for Quinn but was cut off… _twice_. That stung a lot.

"But yet again, I make bad decisions, like choosing to torture you in high school, like choosing to sleep with Noah, like choosing to give up Beth, like choosing to try to get her back, like answering your text while driving, like… The one good choice I made was to cut off contact with you after high school, not that that was particularly hard, because then I didn't have to fall in love with you then all over again like I'm doing now," Quinn ranted, running her hands through her hair with fervor.

Rachel was absolutely flabbergasted. All this time she'd been worried that Quinn would reject her advances because she wouldn't feel the same way, but here it was… the opposite? Quinn was rejecting her _because_ she loved her? It didn't make any sense.

"You know what? This was a bad decision from the beginning. I should never have agreed to go to lunch with you that day. I should have known that you would do something that would push me to places that I don't want to go, that you would play with my emotions and my history," Quinn spewed out, every word cutting closer and closer to Rachel's heart. Just a few more and it would surely leave scars that would never heal.

But no, with bittersweet release, Quinn said not another word, running off through the streets of New York City, the very place she probably never wanted to end up because it was Rachel's city and she had been running from Rachel since that day that Rachel professed that she would never forgive Quinn's past transgressions. Rachel took a few halfhearted steps to run after her, but she stuttered to a halt both out of physical incapacity due to inebriation and an emotional inhibition. She couldn't bring herself to chase after the girl she'd almost just admitted she's in love with because she had been- quite literally- shoved violently away.

Rachel broke down into tears, sliding down the concrete wall and dialing Santana's number without putting the phone up to her face. She couldn't handle this right now. She waited until she saw the Latina running out of the bar looking frantically in every direction. Rachel tilted her head upwards in a gesture that caught Santana's eye and the woman came running to her, Brittany hot on her heels. Rachel watched as Santana turned and said something to Brittany that made the blonde turn away and walk in the other direction.

Santana stooped down and helped Rachel up to her feet, grabbing her phone out of her hands and shoving it in her purse along with her own. She didn't say a word, perhaps because she already knew the answers to the obvious questions one would ask at this point. Or maybe she was just prioritizing. Rachel didn't know, but she was thankful. She just cried, hoping her tears served as answer enough to the unasked questions.

They took a cab back to Rachel's apartment in silence. Santana paid the driver and she walked Rachel inside, helping her to lie down on her bed. Santana then took out Rachel's phone and pressed a speed dial.

"No, it's Santana. Come here, I think you may be needed," Santana said into the phone. There was a short pause and Rachel wondered who Santana had called, wishing she hadn't at all. "Shut your pie hole, Richard Simmons. If you don't get your ass over here in under five minutes I will lose my fucking mind from being too nice by being in Tiny's house at all."

Okay, so Santana had called Kurt, since it was unlikely that she actually had Richard Simmons' number, and even if she did, it would be even less likely that she'd call him while Rachel was mid-crisis.

Santana sat on the edge of Rachel's bed in silence for a good two minutes before speaking. "You fucked up, didn't you?" she asked softly. Rachel nodded into her pillow.

"You… said something to her," Santana guessed slowly. Rachel didn't deny it, but she wasn't much in the mood for sharing what had happened twice, so she waited for Kurt to arrive, which he did shortly after.

"Sweetie, what happened? You were supposed to be on a nice evening with the girls," Kurt questioned, immediately sitting down next to Santana.

Rachel rolled over so she could face her two friends. "I broke my promise, Kurt," Rachel said quietly. Santana looked to Kurt in an attempt to understand; she had not been there when Rachel had promised not to throw herself at Quinn at the first presented opportunity. Kurt swallowed harshly, keeping his negative reactions to a minimum.

"What- exactly- did you do?" Kurt asked, taking time on each word.

"I…" Rachel trailed off. "I kissed her."

Santana groaned and let her head fall into her hands. "Oh, Berry… do you have any idea how bad of an idea that was?"

"I think she does considering her reaction," Kurt defended. He may not agree with Rachel's actions either, but it was clear that Rachel regretted it from her tears, though amplified through the alcohol.

Rachel calmed down, breathing evenly and preparing to speak once more, this time directly to Santana. "I've already told Kurt about this, but in recent times I've found myself falling for Quinn. I tried to reign in my feelings, but we all know how terrible I am at that, so tonight I was with Quinn and it reminded me of the first time we reconnected outside of that strip club and… I couldn't help myself."

Santana's lips were a tight line across her face. Kurt's face was confused. "Wait, you reconnected with her at a _strip club_?" Kurt questioned. Rachel had forgotten that Kurt didn't know that little part of the story.

"Puck and I went to one outside of Lima the night of the bachelorette party. I ran into Quinn. That part's not important," Rachel waved off Kurt's confusion.

Santana seemed to disagree. "Kurt, as much as I think Rachel appreciates you being here, I think it would be best if you go out in the kitchen for a bit," Santana suggested.

"What? You're the one who called me and told me to come!" Kurt exclaimed.

Rachel rubbed her temples, not wanting any part of this situation. She could already feel her drunken stupor slipping away and turning into something akin to an instant hangover. Her head was already a mess of fading alcohol and growing worries. She needed to quiet down the noise she'd created in there.

"Kurt, please," Rachel muttered loud enough for him to hear. Kurt's jaw clenched but he stood up from the bed all the same.

"Oh, and make some snacks while you're out there. I'm hungry!" Santana called after him as he left the room. Kurt yelled back a succinct "fuck you." Santana laughed. "Like you could handle me, gay-boy!"

When the bedroom door slammed shut, Santana's smile slipped from her face. Rachel knew that this conversation was probably going to be about as uncomfortable as a bed of nails.

"God, only you could manage to screw up this badly," Santana sighed. Rachel sat up and faced the Latina. She had to understand what was going on, and Santana was the only one with answers. That's why she'd kicked Kurt out- Santana would not be able to answer the questions Rachel had while he was present. "Tell me what happened."

Rachel recounted the conversation as best as she could, not leaving any details out. Santana's face looked more and more grim by the moment.

"You do remember that I told you how badly your insults hurt Quinn that day you were drunk after graduation? Yeah, she loved you even then, so imagine hearing that from the girl you were secretly in love with. I don't want to be the one to tell you this, because frankly it's Quinn's job, but she wouldn't tell you that part because she wouldn't want you to feel bad. Whatever, I don't coddle."

Rachel held back a smirk because Santana was the queen of coddling when it came to Brittany. But no, it wasn't time for that. This was about her mistakes tonight.

"She… was in love with me," Rachel shook her head even as she said the words, finding them impossible. What would Quinn have possibly seen in her? She was the little Jewish girl with a big diva attitude and the worst fashion sense. Quinn was the girl who could have anyone she wanted just by looking at them.

"No," Santana denied. Now Rachel was really thrown for a loop.

"What?" she spluttered.

"No, you're statement was wrong, incorrect, false. Did I stutter?" Santana snapped. Rachel wasn't sure where this was coming from. Santana had just stated that Quinn was in love with her back after senior year, but she said "no" to Rachel's affirmation. Rachel just stared at her, unable to form a question.

"It's not that she was in love with you, it's that she still is. From what you told me about your conversation with her, she made that pretty damn clear," Santana said. Rachel was trying to process, really, but that was a lot easier said than done.

"She… she said that she cut off contact with me so she wouldn't fall in love with me all over again," Rachel recounted. Santana just nodded.

"Again, you already knew she told me to keep her away from you," Santana reminded Rachel.

"Quinn tries to avoid people she loves. That's why she hasn't seen Beth in years and why she'd been avoiding Puck. She talked to Puck once in the past three years and she mentioned that she's been stripping for money. He made a childish comment about a lap dance and she hung up on him, never talked to him again. She remembered that he was just one big reminder of Beth. It's why she avoided you too, because she loves you. She even tried to push me away, but she couldn't. I held on tight, and didn't let her go. She gave in and told me to only let her love me, to stop her from loving anyone else, that I could be enough for her, even if we didn't truly love romantically," Santana explained.

It was too much. Rachel felt physically crushed by the guilt welling up inside of her, and she couldn't help but keep thinking that Kurt was so right when he warned her that she was biting off more than she could chew. She had really pressed on pressure points that she didn't even know about by kissing Quinn. There was so much history there, at least six years of it- history of Quinn being too afraid to tell Rachel she loved her, fearing rejection. Fearing heartache.

"I wouldn't have hated her if she'd said something back then," Rachel whispered.

"Yeah, because you weren't totally boy-crazy back then or in a relationship with a guy that you'd been telling everyone that you were gonna marry since junior year. Or was it sophomore? I try to repress those memories of your sickening relationship with the doughboy," Santana snarked.

"Really? This is not helping," Rachel said, a little cross. She was having an emotional breakdown and Santana was gleefully insulting her ex-boyfriend and using sarcasm like a cheap hooker.

"The advice can be costly, but the sarcasm always comes free with purchase," Santana shrugged off Rachel's irritation. "Speaking of advice, here's some for you: leave Q the fuck alone for two days, no more, no less. After that, you will call and text her incessantly until she answers. Got it?"

Rachel's eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. "Um, excuse me?"

Santana rolled her eyes like wheels on a bus. "Two days. You won't have a chance of getting past her turtle shell until then. But she'll be a bitch and won't want any contact with you for at least a week. You compromise by being a stubborn bitch right back and letting her know through that that you're not letting her out of your life that easily."

Well, never let it be said that Santana isn't helpful. She could have a degree in How to Deal With Quinn Fabray. She could also write the book on Douches Who Out You, but that was besides the point. Santana should be an author, Rachel thought, but quickly replaced that idea with Quinn being an author because that made more sense and Santana would likely never get anything published because the editors would have to censor the shit out of it to make it even slightly presentable.

Rachel couldn't help the couple of tears now sliding down her face out of frustration with herself. It was at this point that Santana yelled, "Kurt! I'm done my bit. It's getting to the emotional part now, and I don't get paid enough for this shit."

Santana's place was taken over by Kurt, who did not seem particularly happy with Rachel, but he brought her some vegan ice cream out of the freezer and ate some with her anyway. Rachel was sure he would share his piece of mind after Rachel got past the initial hurt of everything.

* * *

Sure enough, the next day was filled with Kurt's opinions. He had stayed the night, not wanting to leave Rachel alone with her confused head, but as soon as they both started their day, he began tentatively referring to the previous night's situation. Once he came to realize that Rachel was reasonably emotionally stable, he brought out the big guns.

"I don't know what you were thinking. Actually, yes, I do, because you weren't thinking at all. You got drunk and kissed Quinn. There's no possible thought that could've gone through your head that would make that seem like a good idea!" Kurt exclaimed while pacing angrily across Rachel's apartment. He's been at it for a few minutes now and showed no obvious sign of letting up.

"And then, and then, I get over here as fast as possibly because Santana, of all people calls me, and you have the nerve to kick me out!" Kurt continued his rampage. "You've totally ruined the friend code. Totally and completely."

Rachel cringed but didn't say anything. She had a feeling it would be best for Kurt to get everything he had to say out first.

"That's not even to mention that I, despite your best efforts to keep me in the dark, have been piecing together your tragic little relationship with Quinn. Something happened that chased her off sometime after graduation and before you got to New York. I'm not stupid- I know you were excited about your then-budding friendship with the girl. And you ran into her again at a strip club? Guess she really is gay after all. And the two of you have been doing this weird dance of destiny for the past couple months, figuring each other out. You've fallen in love with her, which I just _knew_ was going to happen because, come on, anyone that's even the slightest bit attracted to girls finds her attractive and she's just the right sort of personality that draws you in. And last night you went and kissed her and now that's just complicated everything for the two of you. But there's some big thing I'm missing, which is why you kicked me out to talk to Santana last night," Kurt summarized everything that had happened from his point of view.

It amazed Rachel how he both knew so much and knew nothing at all simultaneously. He was accurate in everything he'd said, but he hadn't hit the biggest points of them all- Quinn had been sexually assaulted by her ex-boyfriend, became a stripper, and had been in love with Rachel since high school sometime.

When Kurt took a pause for longer than just taking a breath, Rachel took it as her cue. "There's stuff I haven't told you, yes, but that's only because it's not my story to tell," Rachel said quietly. At that Kurt flopped down on her couch.

"I get that, really, I do. You and Quinn have obviously been getting closer and that's good. She needs someone in her life that will listen, and you've grown into someone that can. But you were her confidant. That role is _not_ followed by the role of girlfriend," Kurt clarified.

Rachel ran a hand through her hair, trying to keep control over at least that when her life was in a few separated pieces currently. She couldn't sit; she was restless and wanted a solution to an unsolvable problem at the moment.

"Santana told me to leave her alone for two days and then try to contact her relentlessly after that. But she didn't give me the answers to the questions Quinn's sure to have," Rachel admitted. She felt vulnerable here, like she was showing Kurt her flaws and he would have the power to judge her for them. She knew there relationship wasn't really like that, but she couldn't shake the feeling. It was ingrained in her.

"As much as I might not always get along personally with Santana, she knows Quinn better than most of us know our own family," Kurt pointed out. Rachel nodded to that.

"Can I just… do you think it would be acceptable for me to make a playlist of all of my favorite music and dance around my house while doing mindless work for the rest of the day both to distract me until I can speak to Quinn and to facilitate finding answers?" Rachel questioned.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Only you would find it necessary to ask. Or share that little embarrassing fact at all."

* * *

Rachel did make that playlist, adding silly songs that reminded her of her childhood along with deeply emotional songs from pinnacle points in Broadway shows where the main character had to make an important decision. The climax of a show always involved a choice, and the characters would express it through music. It was one of the reasons Rachel loved Broadway so very much.

While she was going about the most mundane and normal tasks that she could think of, Rachel had a lot of thinking to do. She replayed her whole conversation with Quinn in her head, trying to process everything and come up with the main points.

She'd kissed Quinn and Quinn had pushed her away.

Quinn has been in love with her since graduation.

Quinn mentioned a lot about how she has problems with people she loves.

Rachel really fucked things up and now Quinn regrets reconnecting with her.

So, all in all, that wasn't exactly a happy-making list. Well, except for the second one. That's the one that Rachel kept turning over in her head like a stone that she was trying to memorize. It seemed completely impossible even as she told herself it for the millionth time. Quinn Fabray, the prettiest girl she'd ever met, was in love with her. Somehow, it had been easier to process that Quinn was gay than coming to terms with the fact that she was in love with her. It seemed so far out of the realm of possibility.

As Rachel always did, she started making a plan. So she had to leave Quinn alone for a little while, but that didn't mean that she couldn't start planning for the eventualities of their future conversations.

Rachel started sorting her thoughts into questions Quinn might have for her and questions she in turn would have for the blonde woman. She was guessing the Quinn would ask for Rachel's reasoning behind the kiss as well as how drunk she'd been. Rachel wanted to ask Quinn how long she'd been in love with her and why, if Quinn was in love with her, that she didn't return the kiss.

This was so much more complicated than Rachel had ever wanted a relationship to be. She couldn't help but compare to her past relationship; Finn had been such an easy relationship, even if he wasn't an easy person to be in a relationship with. He wanted certain things- sex, food, physical displays of affection in the right settings, and if she gave him those, he'd be happy. He loved her, she returned the feelings, and that was that. None of her other relationships had lasted very long in comparison, but she generally tried to stick to that same formula. It was give and take, and she knew exactly what she was supposed to give. She really didn't know how much she was going to receive, but that much didn't matter as long as the person cared for her.

Looking back, she knew that wasn't exactly how a relationship was supposed to work. Not when she compared it to her fathers' relationship or any other relationship between people that she respected. Romantic relationships aren't contracts. They aren't conditional. But without firm rules in place, Rachel found herself floundering.

Was Rachel even ready to be in a relationship with Quinn? Yes, she was beginning to come to the understanding that she was falling in love with Quinn, but she'd rarely allowed her mind to venture to what an actual relationship would look like with the girl.

In her mind's eye, Rachel tried to take her best memories of a relationship with Finn and simply insert Quinn into his role. She tried to imagine walking down hallways holding Quinn's hand. Singing love songs to her. Singing _with_ her. Going out to dinner with her. Kissing her after a date. Kissing her even when they weren't necessarily on a date.

It seemed so… artificial. Quinn didn't really seem like the type of person to go out to dinner and a movie with. But, surprisingly, Rachel struggled the most with picturing Quinn singing with her.

Like it or not, Rachel put a high value on singing in almost all aspects of her life. She fully expected whoever she was with in any sort of romantic capacity to be able to sing with her since singing was her passion and this person was also to be a passion of hers. But Quinn… she hadn't sung in a long time. Rachel wondered why. She wondered how someone with any sort of adequate singing voice could just give up on the act of singing.

As it approached evening, Rachel couldn't take being cooped up in her house any longer. She picked up her phone and dialed.

"Hey, Brittany? I could use a bit of help."

**A/N: A lot of drama in this, but I hope I didn't overload you with it. I'm drawing a lot from personal thoughts while writing this, so I hope you can appreciate that I'm trying to keep this going in a certain type of direction. It's not an easy ride, but then again, when is it ever? These two girls aren't just going to jump into each other's arms and have everything be perfect.**

**If you haven't noticed, the other characters besides Quinn and Rachel play a large role in this story because in real life we are not isolated beings. Our lives are touched by others. We have protective friends, friends who don't take our shit, friends that disagree with us... All kinds.**

**Sorry about the general lack of light/humorous moments in this chapter. I promise they'll be back.**

**Next time: How will Rachel do following Santana's advice? And Brittany...?**

**One last note: This story will have 22 chapters unless I do a drastic change. Hope you stick around until the end! And Happy Valentine's Day!**


	18. Chapter 18

Rachel showed up at Brittany's hotel that night not even knowing what she planned on telling the woman, but she just knew that she couldn't be alone and Kurt and Santana weren't exactly options at the moment.

"I don't know anything," Brittany announced as soon as Rachel walked in the door, making the singer pause and cock her head to the side.

"About what?" Rachel questioned.

"The fact that you kissed Quinn," Brittany clarified. Rachel had to push down her desire to smile because Brittany gave away exactly what she was supposed to clearly be keeping a secret.

"Did Santana talk to you?" Rachel asked. Brittany nodded.

"But I don't know anything. Well, unless you want me to," Brittany responded. Rachel did laugh at that and the two of them sat down to talk. Rachel told her a summary of what happened just in case Brittany was missing any of the details.

After Rachel completed her story, Brittany had a thoughtful look on her face. "How long have you known that you're in love with Quinn?" she asked.

"I never said…" Rachel trailed off. She distinctly remembered a few occasions where Brittany had been spot on about people's emotions even when they were ambiguous to the rest of the world. It was like her special little talent. "I started to realize an attraction to her, at least on a basic level, back when she was in New York with Santana for that doctor conference."

"Okay, but you didn't say love just then," Brittany pointed out.

Rachel thought about that. "I think I started contemplating the possibility of falling in love with her a week or two ago."

Brittany crossed her legs on her chair and twirled a long strand of blonde hair in her hands. She almost looked like a child doing it, but Rachel knew she was hardly a child even if she retained that sort of childlike innocence about her.

"I get why you would fall in love with her. Everyone who can get even a little bit close to her does. Finn did. Puck did. Even San did, but don't tell her I told you that. She was only, like, a little in love with her, not like how she's in love with me," Brittany commented. Rachel wondered what Brittany meant by Santana being in love with Quinn, but that wasn't the current issue. "She's like that stuffed animal that has an ear missing, but it's still your favorite one."

That analogy made perfect sense. Quinn was damaged emotionally, yes, and she'd been damaged physically too, but she was still so loveable and made you want to protect her.

"Yeah, Brittany, Quinn's the stuffed animal without an ear. But I'm scared that I pushed her too far," Rachel agreed.

"You can't. You're Rachel, and that means that even if you pushed the stuffed animal off the chair, you can still pick it back up because it's your stuffed animal," Brittany continued on with the analogy. At this point Rachel wondered if Brittany was still fully aware that this was an analogy at all because it didn't quite follow through with full sense.

"Um, I don't own Quinn though," Rachel pointed out. Brittany smiled and gave a little laugh.

"Yes you do, silly. You her in the only way that matters," Brittany said like it was obvious. It wasn't though, not to Rachel. She did not own Quinn in any way that mattered, because that would mean being able to call her her girlfriend. Which was still a weird concept to even think about. Brittany must have noticed Rachel's confusion because she explained it a little more. "San took me to Build-A-Bear and the people there told me to kiss the little heart before they put it in my bear. So, yeah, I totally understand because you kissed Quinn's heart."

From there, Brittany bounced up out of her chair and announced that she was going to make some hot chocolate because it was "kinda their thing" even though they'd only ever had hot chocolate together once before that Rachel could remember.

When she came back, they started talking about Santana.

"She got emotional the last time we were drunk together because, you know, she gets like that when she's drunk. And she told me 'I wish more people understood just how awesome I am.'" Brittany was explaining. "And I told her that I thought she was awesome, and that other people just didn't have good first impressions or whatever. So she said, 'I don't care about first impressions with girls because they won't get the chance for a second unless I already like them enough to not let them get away.'"

Rachel couldn't help but grin at that because Santana was really adorable when it came to just her and Brittany. She was very protective of her blondes- Brittany and Quinn. Rachel would almost feel like an outside in recent times with them all living in the same city, but they seemed to genuinely enjoy her presence, so she couldn't feel like an extra wheel for long.

"I'm so pleased that you and Santana have been working out your past and are back together because I always envisioned the two of you being together for the rest of your lives even back in high school," Rachel admitted. Brittany beamed back at her.

"Well I've been in love with her since we were in freshman year, maybe even before that. I don't know. I don't really remember what it's like to not be in love with her," Brittany said with a shrug. The fact that she was so confident in her love of Santana, that she didn't have to question it, that she couldn't even imagine not being in love with her… Rachel couldn't image that type of surety in a relationship.

"I can't wait 'til you and Quinn are together too because then everything will be perfect," Brittany added.

Rachel felt a little guilty that she was still having some doubts about actually embarking on a relationship with Quinn when Brittany seemed so sure that it was an inevitability. Maybe it was an option, but Brittany's view of it made it sound so easy.

A few minutes later Rachel's phone vibrated with a text.

**So I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I want to apologize for being so harsh with you about the whole Quinn thing. I want you to know that I'm only trying to find out what's best for you, but in the end you're the only one who really knows that. If you're not too mad at me, I'd love to talk sometime soon, preferably before your little Quinn-ban is over. –Kurt**

Rachel smiled at her phone and texted back.

**Sure, but let's do that tomorrow. I'm talking to Brittany tonight. –Rachel **

"Is that Quinn?" Brittany asked. Rachel shook her head.

"Santana told me to leave Quinn alone for a little while so she has time to think about things. I guess I really threw her for a loop by kissing her," Rachel sighed. She really wished she was texting Quinn instead of Kurt.

"Do you remember how you felt when Finn kissed you at Nationals?" Brittany poised a seemingly random question.

"Yeah, I guess. I felt blindsided, like we should have talked about it first, and that he picked the worst possible moment to push that on me," Rachel answered. Brittany just stared at her, not understanding. Until she did. Her mouth formed a small "o" shape. "You're saying that Quinn feels like I just sort of sprung this on her without any indication. And it was bad timing, too, because she'd just ignored a call from Puck…"

Brittany gave her a half-smile, half-grimace. There was hope, and there was fear, but Rachel had a feeling that she was just projecting those two emotions onto Brittany's expression.

* * *

The next day, Rachel agreed to go over to Kurt's place. She spent some time with him and Michael before Michael left for a meeting with Frankie, leaving Rachel alone with Kurt.

"So, to start this off, I really am sorry. I have been stepping over my boundaries as a friend when you've come to me for advice about Quinn," Kurt apologized.

"I get that you've been attempting to be a good friend with hard advice, but I do believe your own opinions have stood somewhat in the way in this instance," Rachel replied.

Kurt let his head hang down a little in penance. "I know. But how about you tell me what you're thinking right now and I try again with this whole being a good friend thing?" Kurt offered.

Rachel smiled, fully planning on taking him up on that offer. "Well, currently I am wondering why, if Quinn has been in love with me for so long like Santana and Brittany have both confirmed with me, she is freaking out so badly. It's not like she's been completely repressing her love like you've mentioned her repressing her homosexuality. She'd been fairly flirtatious with me, and not just in the way that I overanalyze people's actions to find subtle things that could be misconstrued as flirting. I mean outright innuendos and pretending to be my girlfriend and talking to me through a shower wall while she's _naked_ on the other side…"

Rachel trailed off from her rant to take in Kurt's smirk. "What?" she questioned. He just shook his head, his smirk broadening.

"Go on," he urged.

And so Rachel did. She detailed the sorts of things that Quinn had done that made her believe there could be something between the two of them. Kurt would comment here and there about how certain things were particularly brazen and the like. This conversation devolved quickly into Rachel just talking about Quinn.

"And I know that I've never been a particular fan of sci-fi films, but with Quinn, they seem to make more sense. I even sat through a particularly awful one where the plot was never resolved. She's got so many more layers than I ever thought she had in high school," Rachel continued on.

"I bet you'd just _love_ to unwrap all those layers," Kurt said. Rachel found herself nodding along before stopping upon realizing the innuendo.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, hitting Kurt with a decorative pillow from the couch. He held up his hands in surrender.

"Are you denying it?" he challenged with a raised eyebrow. That eyebrow reminded her of Quinn. Oh God, did she have a one-track mind? She blamed the two day ban that Santana had placed on her interactions with Quinn. Rachel hadn't gone for that long without talking to Quinn since the two of them started living in the same city once more.

"I'll have you know that having a healthy sex drive is perfectly normal in females, just as much as males," Rachel huffed.

Kurt couldn't help an eye roll. "Yes, I know, girls want sex just as much as guys. I've heard that particular story from Celibacy Club before."

Rachel flushed, remembering how she'd said that in a rage followed by a classic storm out. She had been so indignant at how Quinn was portraying boys versus girls, that only guys wanted sex and that girls had to protect themselves from the big baddies that were sexual boys. Looking back, she realized how that could have been Quinn dealing with her own private sexual urges toward what she would have considered the "wrong sex". It was thoughts like these that made Rachel wonder when Quinn actually became aware of her homosexuality. She was clearly quite forcibly repressed at that stage in her life, but that could have either been in reaction to finding those feelings within herself or a subconscious reaction.

And Rachel wanted to know which it was. She wanted to know if Quinn had any girl crushes that she would recognize the names of from back in high school. She wanted to know when Quinn's affections had been turned toward her. She wanted to know what it was that drew Quinn to her. She wanted to know… everything. Anything that Quinn would be willing to share, Rachel would eagerly eat it all up, wanting to know as much as possible about this girl that she was falling in love with faster than the gravity she'd always felt surrounding the blonde girl.

Rachel and Kurt discussed other things like Rachel's upcoming audition, now practically on top of her, just in two days time. She was quite excited for it, but she did feel marginally distracted by the prospect of Quinn being in love with her. And her mind kept flashing back to that vague moment when she'd felt Quinn's lips on her own. It had been cut quite short and Rachel was a bit inebriated at the time, but it was still a great memory, that is if she ignored the aftermath.

"So, how much do you wish you could just fall asleep right now and wake up and have it be tomorrow?" Kurt asked. Rachel groaned at that.

"So much. I want to fix this," Rachel answered.

"It seems like there's been a lot of fixing that's needed to be done recently," Kurt said with a tad bit of guilt.

"Kurt, you may have said some things that crossed a line, but I know that you always have my best interests at heart," Rachel reassured him. Kurt grinned at that.

"What do you say we go take a visit to the local theatres and see if we can get tickets to anything showing?" Kurt suggested. Rachel clapped her hands together with excitement.

"We haven't done that in ages!" Rachel squealed. The two of them used to stop by the off-Broadway theatres to see whatever shows they were playing whenever they'd saved up enough money and free time during their college days. It was a tradition they hadn't taken part in very often since they moved into separate apartments.

"Let's change that," Kurt said.

* * *

They ended up watching a production of _Arsenic and Old Lace_ at a cute little theatre that an elderly couple had bought together and ran a small business out of. It was a nice play and Rachel appreciated it, even if there wasn't any singing and the woman playing Aunt Abby could have used a few acting lessons. Teddy stole the show with his rambunctious running the stairs.

Afterward, her and Kurt stopped at a small Chinese place for dinner. They then walked to Broadway, walking up the street and talking about how soon Rachel would have a long-running spot there. How she'd make a name for herself in this rising musical.

It was a real confidence booster to be doing this with Kurt because she knew he wouldn't lie to her about his confidence in her, not even after the two of them had a falling out of some kind. He simply wouldn't do that to her, and so him reassuring her in this way was exactly what she needed.

She had been talking to Frankie to learn more about the role that she'd be taking on, assuming she got the part. The play was called _Can You See Me?_ and it was about a disturbed young woman named Eden who hallucinates people and has to go to group therapy. Throughout the play the audience isn't sure which characters are real and which ones only exist in the main character's head.

Rachel couldn't wait to audition for the role, but first she could look forward to contacting Quinn. She really hoped that things would go well with Quinn tomorrow because the day after she'd be auditioning, and she didn't want to be emotional on that big day.

After she and Kurt got back to his apartment from their activities, Michael had gotten home, so the three of them spent some time together. She was really happy that the two of them pretty much never made her feel like a third wheel. She remembered when Kurt had first started dating Rachel that she'd felt irrationally jealous because he was going to take away time from her and Kurt, but that really hadn't been the case. Sure, in the beginning they spent a lot of time together, but they soon learned how to balance their interactions with other people as well. And Rachel was thrilled because even though Michael did not possess an extraordinary singing voice, he could dance pretty well.

Rachel went home with a smile on her face.

Santana called Rachel as the day was coming to a close. "_Alright, tomorrow's the day, Berry_," she said in lieu of a traditional greeting.

"Hello, Santana. Nice to hear from you," she greeted sarcastically.

"_Oh, shush. Traditional greetings get you no where when you already know the person well and all that_," Santana brushed her off.

"So we know each other well now?" Rachel commented. It seemed the two of them were incapable of having a conversation without pressing each other's buttons. The only difference now was that Rachel knew Santana didn't mean anything harmful by it.

"_Don't be difficult. I'm calling to let you know that I've talked to Quinn to make sure she's still breathing and eating and all that good shit_," Santana informed her.

Rachel got excited at the mention of Quinn having spoken to Santana. "What did she say? Did she mention what happened with the two of us? Did she sound very angry? Do you think she'll answer my calls tomorrow?" Rachel fired off questions.

"_Whoa, relax. Yes, she talked about you. You know what's funny about you, Berry? When you're around, you talk about yourself. When you leave, I have to talk about you still. I can't escape you_," Santana complained. Rachel just scoffed.

"Whatever. What did she say?" Rachel pressed.

"_Cool it. Quinn's my friend, not just your… future cuddle buddy or whatever. And as her friend, I have the responsibility to keep her thoughts on matters that involve you confidential. She needs someone to talk to that isn't going to report back to you or she wouldn't talk to anyone at all_," Santana explained.

Rachel moaned at that. "Can you give me a general forecast on what my reception is going to be tomorrow?" she pleaded.

Santana sighed and stayed quiet for a while. "_I can give you a few general words, emphasis on _general_. And it's only because I pity you for being so pathetic and begging me for scraps of my conversation with Quinn. I swear, you're like a little puppy with those big brown shining eyes and how you would just follow Quinn around if she let you_." She apparently couldn't help relishing the moment to throw in another gibe at Rachel.

Rachel waited patiently. "_Alright. You already know she's in love with you, right? Hold onto that. She'd beyond upset, so expect the start to be rough. But I think you've got hope, little one_," Santana said with an almost gentle quality to her voice. It reminded Rachel that as much as Santana make poke at her and make fun of her, she really was rooting for her in this.

"Thank you," Rachel said sincerely. "I'll let you know what happens, that is if Quinn doesn't first."

Santana just laughed. "_Somehow_ _I think you'll have two very different stories to tell_," Santana replied cryptically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rachel asked.

"_Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Now, get some sleep, because you're gonna need it. And don't start calling Quinn at six in the morning like I know you'll want to. She won't be up until eight_," Santana added.

"Fine. Thanks for the advice. You've been giving me a lot of that recently."

"_Ew. You're right_," Santana grumbled.

Rachel snickered and the two bid each other goodnight. Rachel found it incredibly difficult to fall asleep that night. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this anxious for something in her life that wasn't an audition. Actually, she was anxious about the impending audition too, so she really was a ball of nerves and anticipation.

* * *

Rachel's first thought when she woke up the next day was wondering if she should make coffee. Her close second was something along the lines of, "screw coffee, it's time to start calling Quinn."

She had set her alarm clock back to eight o'clock so she wouldn't be tempted to break Santana's rule of calling Quinn before then. She bounced out of her bed and scrounged around for her phone, which appeared to have fallen off of her beside table. Once she found it, she had a small internal debate over whether to text or call Quinn first.

She settled for texting.

**Hi Quinn. I know that things were not left on a good note between us, but I'd really like to talk to you to fix this. –Rachel **

She'd had that message planned out ahead of time. It wasn't eloquent or perfect, but it got her general message across- a desire for contact and fixing what was wrong between them.

Rachel let twenty minutes pass without a response before she sent another.

**I know you probably don't want to hear from me, but out of a respect for you I thought I should let you know that I won't be giving up until I hear from you. –Rachel **

Rachel bit her lip nervously, staring at the screen of her phone for a minute before sending that message. It would clearly show that she was going to persistent in her efforts to contact Quinn.

After another twenty minutes without a response, Rachel took a deep breath and put her phone to her ear. It was time for the phone call part of her plan of attack.

* * *

**A/N: First of all, I'm sorry that I gave you such a broken love chapter on Valentine's Day last time. At least there were proclamations of love in it?**

**Okay, WHAT THE HELL?! Quinntana became… reality? What is this? And their relationship was just sexual so Quinn could experiment? That sounds weirdly familiar to, oh, chapter 9 of this story.**

**Four more chapters to go. Well, maybe if I get some requests for it, I'll push it into five more chapters. It's up to you guys!**

**Next time: Rachel gets a hold of Quinn, but what comes of it?**


	19. Chapter 19

Rachel felt rather like she was on a mission. She had advice from people on the inside like Santana and Brittany, she had a plan of attack via texts and phone calls and voicemails, she had a target of Quinn, and she had a goal: get in contact with her.

After the first two texts, Rachel called and Quinn did not pick up. So, she listened to Quinn's automated message and waited for the beep.

"Hey Quinn, it's Rachel. I'm sure you've probably gotten my texts by now, but if not, here's the general idea- I'm not going to cease in my attempts to contact you until I get a response. Call me back," Rachel left as a voicemail before hanging up.

She let that sit for a few minutes so that Quinn could check the voicemail and then called again. Quinn didn't pick up, so Rachel waited another couple of minutes before calling again, this time waiting to leave another message.

"Me again. I really need to fix this between us. You may as well save yourself the time and irritation and just respond to me promptly."

Rachel took a quick break to make some coffee. It was now after nine on a weekend, so she knew Quinn wasn't at work and she also happened to know that she would be awake. There was no excuse for not answering besides being afraid of the conversation to come, which, admittedly, Rachel was too.

She sent another text.

**If I could just meet you somewhere so we could talk, that would be great. –Rachel**

She figured that this message would give Quinn the control to pick where and when they could meet. She knew that Quinn liked having power in a situation, that it made her feel more comfortable, so Rachel figured that would be a good thing to give her. She also knew that she had taken away control of the situation before by kissing Quinn, and that had set her off. It wasn't Rachel's place to kiss Quinn when the later had been in love with her for years.

Rachel called again at around 9:30 but Quinn didn't pick up. Rachel was starting to get frustrated, but she tried to keep a level head, reminding herself that Santana had warned her about this.

Right as Rachel was in the middle of composing another text, one came in.

**Karaoke at 9. –Quinn**

It was just three words, but Rachel beamed down at her phone like it had just told her the secret to eternal life and happiness. She quickly typed out a reply.

**I'll be there. –Rachel **

She remembered how she'd been trying to convince Quinn to go to karaoke with her since the other woman moved to New York. Of course Rachel understood Quinn's reluctance because of memory association with the day Santana and Quinn had their first kiss, but that day wasn't altogether bad in and of itself. It was more so the day that followed that left blemishes on Quinn's psyche.

Rachel had to waste the rest of her day, but she also had to inform Kurt and Santana that she had received a response from Quinn. She called both of them- Santana first, then Kurt. Santana reminded her to start slow and try to not scare Quinn off. She also told Rachel that if they were having sex it was not okay for them to do it at Santana and Quinn's apartment. Rachel replied that for one, they would certainly not be having sex today, and as a second, that it would only be fair considering Santana and Brittany had sex in her apartment already. Kurt wished her luck and warned her not let her heart get hurt. She didn't have a good reply to that because, really, that part wasn't up to her. It was up to Quinn.

* * *

Come nine o'clock, Rachel was walking into the karaoke bar she'd told Quinn about. It appeared that Quinn knew she'd be punctual because the blonde woman was just getting up on the stage when Rachel walked in. Rachel was beyond surprised that Quinn was taking the stage.

Rachel just sat down at an empty table and watched as Quinn took the mic and sang the opening lyrics to the song she'd chosen.

_"When the days are cold  
And the cards all fold  
And the saints we see  
Are all made of gold"  
_

Rachel swallowed, knowing this song. Quinn's voice started out a little rough, perhaps from disuse, but by the third line or so it evened out.

_"When your dreams all fail  
And the ones we hail  
Are the worst of all  
And the blood's run stale"_

Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear as she listened to Quinn sing about failed dreams, something that was close to her heart. This song was more than just Quinn's return to singing- it was a song from her heart, from her life.

_"I want to hide the truth_  
_I want to shelter you_  
_But with the beast inside_  
_There's nowhere we can hide"_

Quinn's face was so serious, so emotionally invested in the words that she was singing. She was honest about the beast inside of her, the one who lashed out in fear. The one that had bullied Rachel and the one that had shoved her away in times past.

_"No matter what we breed_  
_We still are made of greed_  
_This is my kingdom come_  
_This is my kingdom come"_

She was not without hope. She gained confidence at this point, stepping forward on the stage and lifting one of her hands outward.

_"When you feel my heat_  
_Look into my eyes_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_Don't get too close_  
_It's dark inside_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_It's where my demons hide"_

Quinn's outstretched hand touched her chest right over her heart as she sang about her hidden demons, as she warned anyone listening of them. Rachel followed the words, looking right into shining hazel eyes that she'd come to love.

_"When the curtain's call_  
_Is the last of all_  
_When the lights fade out_  
_All the sinners crawl"_

This was the curtain call, the time when things came to an end. Rachel could only hope that it was the end of the tension between them, not the end of them.

_"So they dug your grave_  
_And the masquerade_  
_Will come calling out_  
_At the mess you made"_

Rachel cringed as she thought about the mess she'd made. This was Quinn calling out to her through song, like Rachel used to frequently do back in high school. As she still sometimes liked to do now. Rachel wondered how long Quinn had thought about the perfect song to pick to describe her emotions. She wondered if every words was dedicated to her or if it was the general feeling of the song. Either way, she was hanging on every word like a breath.

_"Don't want to let you down_  
_But I am hell bound_  
_Though this is all for you_  
_Don't want to hide the truth"_

Quinn hiding the truth… that seemed to happen so often out of her fear. She'd hidden her pregnancy, then the true father of the baby. She'd hidden her true self behind pink hair and the Skanks. She hid behind that Cheerios uniform. She his her homosexuality. She hid her love for Rachel. Quinn was the master of hiding, but that didn't mean she enjoyed the task.

_"They say it's what you make_  
_I say it's up to fate_  
_It's woven in my soul_  
_I need to let you go"_

Rachel's heart clenched as she saw that Quinn clenched her hand into a fist before releasing the tension, a visual of her letting go. Rachel prayed that she wasn't letting her go. If she was truly woven into Quinn's soul, there was no way they could let each other go.

_"Your eyes, they shine so bright_  
_I want to save their light_  
_I can't escape this now_  
_Unless you show me how"_

"I will," Rachel whispered to herself. She wondered if Quinn could read lips, because the blonde was staring right at her.

_"When you feel my heat_  
_Look into my eyes_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_Don't get too close_  
_It's dark inside_  
_It's where my demons hide_  
_It's where my demons hide"_

On the last repeated line, Quinn had tears glistening in her eyes. Rachel wondered if she felt déjà vu as she walked off the stage and out of the bar, wondering if she had to hold in the urge to run out like she had on Santana. Rachel calmly followed, catching up to her as she turned down an alley. It probably wasn't the best idea to be going down strange alleys while it was dark out in New York City, but Rachel had bigger priorities.

Quinn leaned against the wall of an apartment building on the side of the alley. Rachel approached her tentatively, not knowing how to start this conversation. She'd had a script planned out, but suddenly her written introduction seemed so unfathomably inadequate compared to Quinn's song of feeling and meaning.

"Quinn…" Rachel started. Well, at least she addressed the woman. Quinn wouldn't meet her eyes at the sound of her name. "That song was… beautiful."

She received no response, so she decided to go into her planned words anyway, slowly taking another step towards Quinn.

"I know that we haven't always had the most stable of a relationship," Rachel started but was met with a snort from Quinn. "Okay, so we started off pretty rocky, what with the whole bullying thing and fighting over Finn. And I know that I made things worse by telling you that I'd never forgive you for those things." At that, Quinn lost her smirk and her eyes widened.

"I thought you didn't remember that night," Quinn whispered. She sounded so unbelievably hurt that Rachel's heart smarted right along with her.

Rachel let out a long sigh. "I didn't- well, I still don't. But Santana filled me in on that particular story," she explained. Quinn mumbled something that soundly suspiciously like she was damning Santana, but Rachel let it go. "Anyway, I didn't mean any of those things, not even then. I was angry, drunk, and vindictive, which is never a good combination, but that night Finn told me that he wondered why he ever left you. It was a stupid comment from him that I let go, but I took it out on you. I told you horrible things to push you away and then you never tried to get me back because you knew it would only hurt you… _I_ would only hurt you."

Rachel really wished that she didn't have tears threatening to ruin her self-composure. She took in a shaky breath to keep going.

"And then we found each other again," Rachel paused, not being able to help a small and partially watery smile at that. It just reminded her of the time when Quinn had talked about her and Santana "finding each other", as if it just happened and there was no stopping it. As if it was fate. "And you let me into your life, into your heart. I fell in love with what I found there."

Quinn was crying now and biting her lip in an attempt to staunch the flow of tears. The sight set Rachel off even more. But she had to get through this. She'd planned it so well, envisioned it in her head, made a powerpoint on it. None of that really seemed to matter anymore, but she still had to get to the point of this. She reached out a hand to touch Quinn's face, just two fingertips grazing the skin of her cheek, but it was enough contact for them. It gave Rachel the strength she needed to make it through her speech.

"I know that I messed up that night at the bar, that I made another drunken mistake. This one wasn't out of anger, rather affection, but it was still harmful nonetheless. In your mind, you had just been getting used to me being in your life again, to confiding in me, and you were probably resigning yourself to being my friend," Rachel continued. "We've never been very good at that, have we? Friends?" she mused with a small chuckle. Quinn let out a half-smile and Rachel felt victory. If she could make Quinn smile, then something in the universe was right.

"And I pushed you somewhere you were not ready to go. To you, I had just drunkenly come on to you as if it was nothing, but to you, you'd been wanting that for years, but not like that. You wanted it to be special, for it to mean something. You probably felt betrayal, and I am _so sorry_ for that. I never intended for that to happen."

At saying the words "so sorry" Rachel's tear tracks were filled once more. The guilt she carried was still there, waiting to be assuaged. She'd violated Quinn emotionally that night, and it was truly awful.

This was it; this was the end of her planned speech. After this last bit, she had nothing. She'd tried hard to come up with something, but the next powerpoint slide remained empty.

"Like I just said, I didn't intend for this to happen. I may have failed in conveying it to you, but what I tried to say that night stands firm. I met you in high school, but I met you again that night at the strip club. And outside of that club I found you. That day led to this day, and somewhere along the way I fell in love with you," Rachel confessed.

Quinn looked somewhere between stunned and grief-stricken. She stayed silent, which really wasn't what Rachel had wanted. She swallowed thickly, praying to any god she knew the name of to make Quinn say _something_, anything. She didn't want Quinn to run away again like she had in the past. She didn't know if her heart would be able to handle that.

The blonde woman that Rachel had found herself falling in love with opened her mouth, but no words came spilling out. She barely even moved. Rachel's heart was beating faster, fearing that this was leading to rejection.

"Please… say something, Quinn," Rachel begged. She tried to keep it from sounding like a sob.

Quinn closed her mouth before opening it again, this time for words. "I pushed you away for a reason, Rachel," Quinn said softly. Rachel's chest constricted and she wasn't sure if she would be able to take a breath again any time soon. Seeing this reaction, Quinn hurried on with the rest of her response. "I did it because you have the power to hurt me, and I don't like giving that power to anyone. But along with the power to hurt me comes the power to see me for who I am and make my heart sing, to make _me_ sing. You know that I haven't sung since you? I tried after graduation, but every time I did, I just pictured you in my head, criticizing me for being sharp. It wasn't the insult that bothered me- it was the fact that it brought you to the forefront of my mind, and I didn't want you there."

The best Rachel could do at this point was not let her crying become vocal. Her hand had dropped from Quinn's face at her first eight words, but as Quinn paused, she clutched Rachel's face with both of her hands, forcing her to make eye contact.

"But that's changed. You came back into my life- forced yourself in, really- and thinking of you made me happy again. I said some terrible things too- that night outside the bar. I pushed you away from me because I didn't believe that you could be in love with me. In my mind, you were just the fantasy that I would never have, and it seemed like a cruel joke, like you were just messing around because you'd been drinking. And even after I pushed you away after that, you wouldn't give up. God knows what advice Santana gave you, but your incessant calling made me give in all over again. By doing that I knew I was opening myself up to get hurt again, but I didn't care." Quinn stopped to take a shaky breath. She let her thumbs brush over Rachel's cheekbones, simultaneously wiping away her tears. Rachel couldn't help but notice how Quinn's eyes appeared greener when she'd been crying. She was so achingly beautiful in that moment.

"I did it because there was that small chance that I might finally get to have you," Quinn whispered. It took all of Rachel's willpower to not lean in and kiss her right there, but she knew there was more to this conversation than a monologue apiece.

"I tried to back away. Kurt told me that chasing you would probably turn out badly, and it honestly did at first, but I stand firmly by my decision considering the fact that we ended up here, both of us admitting we're in love with each other, albeit while we're crying," Rachel replied with a tiny smile.

Quinn gave her a soft laugh with a matching smile. "Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you right now?" Rachel's smile turned into more or an expression of shock and want. She licked her lips at the thought of them meeting Quinn's.

"But there's something else I have to tell you before I let myself do that," Quinn said with a sigh. "I freaked out on you that night. I took out all of my self-doubt and painful memories on you, and you had done nothing wrong. Yes, you caught me off-guard, but that was hardly any reason for me to set off all of my defense mechanisms. You know those well… the running away, the isolating myself, the harsh words. You were always the frequent recipient of those mechanisms because you always made me feel _so much_. I know that's hardly fair, in fact it's the worst kind of justice, so I need to apologize for it."

"I forgive you for that, of course I do," Rachel replied with a serious voice. Quinn shook her head.

"No, that's not it. I need to apologize for everything, starting with high school. I'm sorry that I ordered a reign of terror with you as the prime victim. The slushies, the drawings on the walls, the masculine names, the making you out to be a loser, all of it. I acted violently and degrading toward you because I wanted to squash you out of my heart. I thought if I pushed you down enough you'd be too low down for me to possibly still be attracted to you. I bullied you while I was in love with you, and that's the worst mistake I've made in my life, and I've made a damn lot," Quinn apologized with such vigor that Rachel almost wanted to laugh at her obvious sincerity- not because she didn't appreciated it, but just because it wasn't necessary to her.

"Quinn, I've forgiven you for that years ago," Rachel admitted. "Wait, just how long have you been in love with me?" she questioned.

Quinn averted her eyes, which was quite a feat considering she was still holding Rachel's face inches from her own. "I've been in love with you since somewhere in the nine months I was pregnant, sophomore year."

Rachel was thrown for a loop, realizing just how important this was to Quinn. The girl had been in love with her for eight years, almost nine. She couldn't imagine being in love with someone for that long unrequitedly. It must have made for some long nights of tears and regrets, something that Rachel didn't envy one bit.

"So, now that you've apologized… do I get that kiss you mentioned?" Rachel asked hopefully. Quinn looked back up, and in that moment, Rachel felt something lock into place. Any constriction left in her chest was lifted, but her breath was still taken away. She wondered if this was what it felt like to be irrevocably in love.

Quinn closed the gap between the two of them and Rachel found that her eyes didn't slide closed until the last possible second- the moment right before contact. She was blown away by how beautiful Quinn was. Many years earlier when Rachel had been envious of the blonde goddess she'd reasoned that Quinn was like an Impressionist painting- beautiful from a distance, but once you got up close, you'd see the individual brushstrokes and imperfections. The big picture would fade away. Quinn was nothing like that at all. If anything, she was even more beautiful up close because Rachel could see those brushstrokes, but they were so well-placed that not one was out of line. See the parts away from their sum was just as wonderful. She could see flecks of gold in Quinn's hazel eyes and she could see each individual eyelash, and she loved each one of them.

When their lips finally met, Rachel didn't feel her brain stop like she'd imagined. She didn't see fireworks like Finn had described when kissing Quinn. She saw memories. She saw Quinn singing a duet with her back in high school. She saw the two of them laughing together in a rare moment of camaraderie from senior year. She saw Quinn giving her bus passes and promising to stay in touch. She saw the two of them at lunch for the first time in years. She saw the first time she'd held Quinn's hand. And she saw a jar full of gardenias. That one wasn't a memory, but more of a symbol. She wasn't entirely sure of its meaning, but it seemed right.

Quinn's lips were soft and tasted like cherries. She didn't press against Rachel roughly like Finn used to, and she didn't seem to be angling for something more like Jesse. She was something entirely new, and something entirely wonderful.

She caught Rachel's bottom lip between her own two and gently massaged it like she was afraid of scaring Rachel away. She took hold of both of her hands in her own. It was fragile and perfect, and it only lasted a few seconds.

When Quinn pulled away, Rachel didn't open her eyes. She wanted to stay trapped in that moment for as long as she could. Quinn gently squeezed her hands to bring her back to the world of the present.

"Can we do that again?" Rachel asked, trying not to sound like a child. Quinn smirked and granted her request like she'd like nothing better.

* * *

The two walked hand in hand back to Rachel's apartment, neither wanting to break that link of physical contact in case letting go meant the other would disappear. Both of them had moments in the past where they believed they'd lost the other forever, and neither wanted to repeat that feeling.

Their walk back was quiet. They'd shared so much- so many words, so many emotions- but now they were left a little empty emotionally. When they got back, Rachel sat them down on her new couch (she really should send Santana the bill for that purchase).

"So what happens now?" Quinn asked quietly.

"Anything," Rachel murmured in response, brushing some of Quinn's hair out of her face. Quinn bit her lip.

"I don't know where to go from here," she admitted delicately.

"Wherever you decide, I'll be there beside you," Rachel vowed. It might have been a tad dramatic, but she _was_ in the dramatic arts field. It was to be expected.

"I never really let myself think of what it would be like to finally have you. I spent all my time and energy resigning myself to the exact opposite," Quinn confessed. Rachel traced the outline of Quinn's chin and cheekbones with her eyes, laying her gaze to rest on those pink lips. Her face really was striking.

"Can you… tell me it again?" Rachel asked. She felt silly for asking, but Quinn just smiled.

"I love you," Quinn placated her. Rachel couldn't bear it anymore and leaned in to kiss Quinn again. She cherished the moment, knowing that moments like these weren't everyday. Well, it wasn't everyday you got to kiss Quinn Fabray, but she hoped to change that.

**A/N: Just four more chapters. I hope you're really enjoying. I've gotten some feedback that you guys want me to make this 23 chapters instead of 22, so consider it done. I have this pretty much finished (meaning the more reviews I get the faster I'll post the next chapter) and I'm starting a new story called "Hunger Within". It will be Faberry as well, so I'd love it if you could stop by and read it. The first chapter of that should be up the day of the last chapter of this story.**

**Next time: Santana has some interesting news for the group that not everyone's going to enjoy.**


	20. Chapter 20

Rachel was squealing on the phone with Quinn two weeks later after hearing back from Frankie that she got the role when she had an incoming call from Santana.

"Ican'tbelieveIactuallygotaroleonB roadway!" Rachel pushed all of her words out at once at a heightened pitch.

Quinn chuckled into the phone at her end. "_I'm not sure I really caught the exact words you used, but I'm assuming you're really excited_," she replied.

"Yes. Sorry. I have to go- call on the other line," Rachel said in a rush. "Actually, why don't you just stay on the line and I'll add her to the call?" Rachel suggested. Without waiting for a response from Quinn, she picked up the call from Santana.

"Santana, this had better be important because I was just in the middle of informing Quinn that I got the role of Eden in Frankie's play," Rachel answered in a bit of huff.

"_First of all, congrats. Second of all, get whatever crawled up your butt out because I've got news_," Santana responded.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked, curious now. She would usually berate Santana for not acting more excited about her role, but took Santana's lack of reaction more as a sign that the Latina already knew she'd get the role so she wasn't surprised.

"_This had better not be news that you finally found a lesbian colony that we can move to because I already told you no," _Quinn said dryly.

___"Oh, hi Q-ball, didn't know you were there too."_ Santana greeted. "_We're going back to Lima… for a reunion of the Glee club," she announced._

"_Um, no_?" Quinn replied.

"_Um, yes? We're eating at Breadstix_," Santana said back.

"_What, and deal with bigoted Lima losers the whole time?_" Quinn asked doubtfully.

"_I rented the place out_," Santana countered.

"_You… can do that?_" Rachel added absently. She hadn't really been paying much attention.

"_I hold the record for most money spent there by one person. I do what I want_," Santana said smugly.

Rachel didn't quite know what to say. She hadn't kept in touch with people from high school, a fact that was brought to her attention when she went to Finn's wedding. Unfortunately, she hadn't remedied that by much even after that wedding, not even with Puck who had taken care of her that night. Sure, she talked to the three former Cheerios and Kurt everyday, but they lived in her city now and had become a huge part of her life. Kurt was always her best friend while she was in New York, and Santana and Brittany were kind of a package deal with Quinn. Well, Santana was a package with Quinn, and Brittany had become a package with Santana ever since the two of them got reunited.

It wasn't that she dreaded seeing these people again but… well, maybe she did dread seeing some of them. She was assuming a reunion would have Finn and Addy in attendance, and those were two people that she just did not want to see. She didn't hate either of them, but she didn't particularly want to socialize with them either. Finn was just a reminder of her stupid obsession with him in high school and he was probably going to assume that Rachel still wasn't over him. And Addy? Rachel knew she probably wouldn't be able to stand anyone who could get married to Finn Hudson. She winced upon realizing that she was almost that person. And Quinn had stated intentions of marrying him as well. Okay, so maybe Addy was alright. Finn did always have good taste in women.

"_Hello? You still with me Berry?_" Santana questioned. Rachel shook herself out of her own thoughts. Apparently Santana had still been talking to her and she hadn't been listening.

"What? Yes, I am still on the line," Rachel responded distractedly.

"_But_ _you didn't hear a word I said after the word 'Lima' came out of my mouth_," Santana stated without questioning. Rachel grimaced at just how well Santana knew her.

"Okay, maybe. So, by we…" Rachel trailed off.

"_By_ _we I mean you, me, Britts, Quinn, Kurt, and his boy toy_," Santana confirmed.

Oh boy, if Finn didn't make a big deal out of Rachel being there, he definitely would by Quinn being in attendance. And being, well, _friends_ with Rachel. Rachel didn't know how to classify Quinn and her relationship. They weren't exactly dating, but they were far from simple friends. The closest Rachel could get to a definition was that they were close friends who were in love with each other and had a tendency to kiss each other whenever they were alone.

"And the people there?" Rachel asked.

"_Glee club from its glory days plus anyone they're banging_," Santana answered succinctly. Rachel rolled her eyes at Santana's complete lack of tact but let it go. She had a reunion to get ready for in a week as well as prepare emotionally.

* * *

Kurt and Michael had decided to drive separately from the girls, a decision that Rachel was a little jealous of.

The Friday afternoon car ride to the reunion had been some sort of hell for sure. Brittany liked to play road games, which would have been fine, but Santana was the one making them up, so they were fairly awful and offensive. One game was to take any sign they passed and replace one of the words with sex. That led to things such as "Sex Limit 45" and "Sex Zone Approaching" as well as "No Sex Allowed".

Needless to say, Rachel was relieved when they finally arrived at the hotel they'd be staying at for their weekend in Lima. They rented two connected rooms but since Brittany didn't want Rachel and Quinn to hear sex going on next door, the dancer decided that she would room with Quinn and Rachel could room with Santana. Rachel had tried to protest that it would be fine, but Brittany insisted. So, no cuddling with Quinn at night. She felt some degree of trepidation at having to share a bed with Santana, but she didn't voice that concern.

They checked into the hotel and split up, both brunettes giving their respective blonde a quick kiss goodnight. Rachel felt a little thrill at the fact that she was able to kiss Quinn, but she kept it short, not wanting to do anything further in the presence of Santana and Brittany.

Rachel settled into bed with Santana, something she never thought she'd ever do. She cursed Lima for having small hotel rooms and consequently small beds.

"You'd better not sing in your sleep," Santana grumbled as she pulled the covers up over herself. Rachel scoffed at that.

"I most certainly do not, though I do believe that would be beneficial to my practice schedule," Rachel denied. The two fell asleep after a short war over the covers. Rachel wondered briefly if Quinn and Brittany were having any troubles.

* * *

When Rachel woke up the next morning it was to Quinn and Brittany turning on the light. Rachel examined her surroundings to find that Santana's one arm was wrapped around her waist and her head was snuggled against her shoulder. She froze as Santana opened her eyes, terrified that the Latina was about to strangle her.

"Aww," Brittany cooed from the door that connected the two hotel rooms. That broke Santana out of whatever daze she'd been in and she pushed herself as far away from Rachel as she could which resulted in her falling out of the small bed. Quinn giggled at the sight.

"Look, they really do love each other," Quinn chuckled. Brittany joined in the laughing.

Santana stood up, rubbing her hurt bottom. "Shut the hell up. I'm used to snuggling with Brittany when I sleep, that's all," Santana growled.

"Really, you're going with the confusing-me-for-Brittany defense? That one might work if I was blonde and tall instead of brunette and on the shorter end," Rachel mocked.

"Oh, I get it, you're trying to be cute. Stop, it's not working," Santana snarled.

"I think it's adorable that you two were cuddling. I mean, Brittany and I have snuggled together at sleepovers before, and you've done the same with me and Britts, but I've never seen you so cute with anyone else before," Quinn commented smugly. Rachel briefly imagined just how "adorable" it would be to see the three of them cuddled up together. More like pretty much any guy's dream.

"If you don't shut your mouth I'll shut it for you with a stapler," Santana threatened Quinn. The recipient of the abuse just laughed.

* * *

By the time the four of them got to Breadstix, the party was already underway since they'd slept in. The moment they walked in they were met with Puck grinning with a girl on his arm.

"So, you like the décor?" he asked them. Rachel looked around to see that the restaurant had been dressed up with posters with pictures of the Glee club as well as the trophies they'd won and some banners. It was a little weird to look at, but it was nice that someone had gone to the effort.

"I especially like the decoration you've got on your arm," Santana snarked, pointing to the girl hanging on Puck's arm. She was dressed a little provocatively for a high school reunion, but Rachel was still a little appalled at Santana's nerve. Actually, the girl looked like she couldn't be that far off from high school herself.

"Shut up. She's graduated now," Puck defended. The girl just giggled. Quinn slipped her hand into Rachel's and the singer realized that Quinn probably felt a little uncomfortable talking to Puck considering their history.

"Well you're looking good as always, Santana. You too, Baby Mama," Puck commented while giving both girls a once-over.

Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand. "I think it's been far long enough that you've gotten away with that derogatory nickname, Noah," Rachel defended Quinn. Puck raised his hands.

"Sorry, Jew Babe. Look, I'll catch up with you later, okay?" he said. No one responded, so her just walked past them with his giggling young blonde who hadn't said a word. Puck would always be Puck.

Soon after leaving Puck, they were approached from behind by a woman who said, "The Unholy Gay Three." The girls turned around to see none other than the infamous Sue Sylvester, somehow looking like she hadn't aged a day. It was probably a military secret how she stayed looking the same age. The only difference was that she was in a wheelchair, which was altogether a frightening sight. Rachel wondered how many toes she'd run over with those wheels.

"It was the Unholy Trinity, Coach," Santana corrected, trying to reign in her grin at seeing her old coach.

"Whatever. Mine is still accurate. I see you've added the latent lesbian midget to your posse," Sue commented. Rachel knew better than to be offended- Sue wasn't at all prejudiced, she just hated everyone.

"How did you get that wheelchair?" Brittany asked with her head tilted to the side. "You didn't steal Artie's legs, did you?" Santana shot Brittany a weird look but Quinn touched Santana's arm as a reminder that Brittany was here with her, not with Artie.

"My legs finally gave out from overuse after their injury in the assassination of Osama Bin Laden. The doctors told me I was lucky they lasted this long, but I told them there was no luck- I simply made pain my bitch for years," Sue explained. Rachel often wondered how much of what the cheer coach said was true. Originally she'd doubted the woman's tall tales, but she started to believe them the more she interacted with her. Honestly, she didn't want to know if her stories were true- she was still terrifying.

"You still coaching?" Quinn asked.

"I was going to retire, but Figgins begged me to stay on the staff. He told me I was the best influence McKinley's halls had ever seen. Of course, I told him his flattery would get him no closer to the insides of my tracksuit than ever before, but I doubt he honestly believed in his own efforts. Q, I miss your leadership. The Cheerios have never failed to make me sad since your departure," Sue said before turning to Brittany and Santana. "And you two, I'm glad to see that my lessons of self-awareness taught by slapping yourselves with meat cutlets has gotten you somewhere in that you've danced into the rainbows together."

Lastly, Sue turned to Rachel. "As for you Little Miss Streisand, I'm afraid that you've managed to make yourself practically tolerable, though I might have to give credit to Lady Boy for that. I fully expect to utilize my handicap status for sympathy to get a place to park my chair close to the stage when you start _Can You See Me?_"

Rachel was utterly confused as to how Sue knew about her role, especially considering she only found out herself a week ago. Sue's connections were never to be doubted, it seemed.

After Sue wheeled away, Quinn leaned in to whisper to Rachel, "Please tell me that I'll never get like that even when I'm old and senile."

Rachel smirked. "Oh, you hope you'll end up _just _like her. You're the young Sue Sylvester, after all." Quinn looked scandalized.

* * *

The Glee reunion was altogether a success for the most part. The four girls split up for a while to socialize with some other members of the old Glee club. Kurt and Michael arrived soon after, joining in the festivities.

Brittany had just gone to go get some drinks when Finn and Addy approached Rachel, Santana, and Quinn sitting at a table.

"Hey, Rachel, I didn't expect to see you over here with these two," Finn said, gesturing to Santana and Quinn. Rachel practically felt Quinn stiffen next to her.

"Really, and why is that?" Quinn asked sharply, glancing down at her fingers entwined with Rachel's.

"Well, it's just that the two of you never really got along well before," Finn replied with a shrug.

"So I already know Rachel and I believe this is Santana, but who's your other friend?" Addy asked, pointing to Quinn. Rachel mentally slapped Finn for not explaining to his wife about his past relationship history. That really seemed like an important thing to go over.

Quinn stuck out her hand with a false sweet smile. "Quinn Fabray, Finn's ex-girlfriend. I'm sure you know that Rachel also holds that status." Addy shook her hand reluctantly.

"Oh, and Santana, you were with Finn in high school too, weren't you?" Quinn added with faux-forgetfulness. Santana snickered.

"For a few minutes, if you catch my drift," Santana agreed. Rachel could see that this was going in a bad direction, but she had no power to stop it. "Every single girl Finn Hudson was with in high school is currently gay," Santana continued. Addy's eyebrows rose and Finn's mouth dropped open.

"Wow, I never did the math…" Rachel mused. It really was a rather unfortunate fact for the tall guy. He hadn't been completely terrible in high school, but he had made some pretty bad mistakes when it came to relationships, including a lot of cheating.

Brittany came back with their drinks just then. She must have noticed something was going on because she looked to Santana with curiosity.

"First he dated Quinn, and she's capital G gay. Then Berry, and she's all up on Quinn now. He lost his virginity to me, and I've known I was gay since before that unfortunate occurrence. Britts, did you ever kiss Finn?" Santana explained.

"Once, yeah. I had to, for my perfect record. I went on one date with him," Brittany concurred. Finn looked like he was about to lose his lunch and Addy looked positively scandalized. Santana and Quinn were wearing matching smirks. Rachel and Brittany both alternated between various expressions ranging from surprise to justice to confusion.

"Perfect. Finn has a perfect record too… of being with every single gay girl in Glee," Quinn pointed out.

"That's depressing," Brittany nodded sagely.

Finn was absolutely flabbergasted. The conversation was all passing by rapid-fire. "Wh-what? Santana and Brittany, I knew you two were lesbians, but Quinn? You've always been straight. Like, the straightest girl I've ever met. And Rachel? She was my fiancé, she's not gay. And there's _no way_ she's with Quinn now. That would just be weird," Finn denied all the information he was hearing. Addy appeared to have lost all powers of speech. She clearly didn't know everything about Finn's past, specifically his exes.

Rachel couldn't help but feel defensive here. "I'll have you know, Finn, that I've always considered my sexuality to be fluid. I've told you that before. And yes, as a matter of fact I am with Quinn now," she said, holding up her hand that was linked with Quinn's. Quinn raised an eyebrow at him dangerously.

"Yeah, it's better if you shut the fuck up so everyone won't know how stupid you really are," Santana suggested.

"So… you're all gay?" Finn repeated, unable to process.

"I'm bilingual," Brittany denied. Santana whispered a correction in her ear. "Bisexual. And Rachel is too, didn't you hear what she just said?"

Finn had the decency to look embarrassed. He looked to Addy for support, but she didn't seem to be capable of adding anything useful.

"Well, it's always… interesting to meet people from Finn's high school years," Addy said in a way that let the four girls know they weren't wanted there anymore. It was just as well- Kurt was waving to them from his table with Michael.

Rachel waved goodbye to Finn and Addy, both of whom looked a little shell-shocked. The girls went over to talk to Kurt.

"So did he get anything from her?" Kurt asked Rachel with interest. He was probably referring to Finn getting heat from Quinn or Santana, but that wasn't how his question was taken.

"If you're talking about Finn and Addy and by 'it' you mean an assortment of STDs, the answer is probably yes," Santana grumbled. Quinn snorted and Brittany giggled. Even Rachel couldn't hold back a quick laugh.

"That is most certainly not what I meant," Kurt replied, trying to act offended, but he was still smiling. He clearly didn't have the best impression of Finn's wife either.

"Anyone want to place bets on how long until Addy comes out of the good ol' closet?" Quinn offered. "We were just discussing how every single girl Finn went out with in high school is right here and gay," Quinn filled in Michael and Kurt. Michael gave them a slow nod and a shit-eating grin. He found their high school stories to be hilarious usually, especially since he hadn't been involved. He would sometimes tell them that their lives could make for a great book series or even a television show.

"I'd love to plant some lesbian porn on her laptop… it would either end in her coming out of Finn finding it and having major insecurities," Santana mused.

"Santana! You can't do that! It wouldn't be right," Rachel exclaimed. She may not be the newlywed's number one fan, but she didn't advocate childish pranks like that.

"You know how many years since his first time Puck's been celibate? That's how many shits I give," Santana rejected Rachel's criticism. Brittany gave Santana a look and the Latina deflated. "Fine, I won't."

* * *

The party went on for quite a while and pretty much everyone there got drunker as the night wore on. At one point, Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand and dragged the girl into the unused kitchen area of Breadstix and locked the door behind them. Now that they were alone, Rachel ran her hands up Quinn's shoulders to rest around her neck, pulling her in to kiss her soundly. Quinn giggled against her lips.

"You brought me in here to make out?" Quinn asked with an eyebrow quirked.

"Yes, now shut up so I can do just that," Rachel demanded, returning to kissing Quinn. It was quickly becoming one of her favorite activities, after all.

Rachel felt Quinn reciprocate instantly and sighed at the feeling. It was so reassuring to have that response instead of rejection like she'd received the first time they'd kissed. Rachel thread her fingers through Quinn's blonde hair, relishing in how soft it felt. Quinn captured her bottom lip and ran her tongue across it, asking for entrance to her mouth which Rachel quickly granted.

Quinn moved her tongue at a leisurely pace, exploring as if she had all the time in the world, and Rachel hoped she did. Even after a week of kissing Quinn the whole thing still seemed like such a novel idea. Quinn was everything that Rachel had ever thought she wanted in a partner in a relationship- attractive, talented, intelligent, and compassionate. The only change in her original plan was that Quinn was female, but as Rachel felt Quinn's breasts press into her own as the blonde drew her closer, Rachel thought that maybe that was really a change for the better.

"I love you," Quinn whispered between open-mouthed kisses that she began trailing down Rachel's jaw making her groan. It was like now that Quinn had started saying those words she couldn't stop. Well, she had a few years to make up for, Rachel supposed.

Quinn made her way down Rachel's neck, stopping for a moment at her pulse point. Rachel wondered if she could feel how elevated her pulse was in response to Quinn's actions. She continued on down to the spot right where Rachel's neck met her shoulder, sucking on that point.

"Mm," Rachel moaned, not meaning to be so vocal, but she couldn't help it. She tangled her hands further into blonde locks. Quinn released the skin she'd had her mouth wrapped around to lick it once with her tongue, making Rachel shiver. The singer used the hands wrapped around the back of Quinn's head to pull her face up to her own so she could recapture the blonde's lips. Rachel let one of her hands leave Quinn's hair to trail down her back and come to rest on her hip and start rubbing small circles there underneath Quinn's shirt.

"God, you're so hot," Quinn murmured into Rachel's lips. Rachel smiled against their kiss and started raising her hands a little higher.

And then the door barged open.

"Whoa, didn't know Berry could get down like that," Santana commented on Rachel's mussed hair and compromising position with Quinn. Rachel knocked over a pot from the counter in her attempt to put distance between her and Quinn.

Quinn growled. "Santana, what the hell are you doing back here?"

"How did you even get in here?" Rachel added, feeling a little breathless. Santana held up a key with a smirk.

"Seriously guys? I practically _own_ this place," Santana answered. "And I promise I wasn't trying to cockblock. Quite the opposite." Brittany came bounding in the room.

"Oh, just perfect," Quinn muttered. It appeared Santana was trying to secure the room for her and Brittany, not knowing it was already occupied.

"What's going on in here?" came Kurt's voice as he entered the kitchen, drawn in by the commotion caused when Rachel knocked over the pot.

"This is not what I imagined when you dragged me in here," Quinn complained. Rachel ran a hand up and down Quinn's arm in an effort to placate her.

"I know I used to tell you that you were no more sexy than a teletubbie, and honestly I still kinda hold onto that, but for one shining moment there I saw that you have the potential to be sexy, albeit only when pinning Quinn up against a stove. How domestic of you," Santana snarked. Brittany giggled. Kurt looked horrified.

"People _cook_ in here!" he exclaimed.

Quinn was still scowling but Rachel had a beaming smile on her face. Quinn sent her a questioning glance.

"She called me sexy. That negates every other negative thing she's said or done," Rachel answered Quinn's unasked question.

"But, Rachel…" Kurt started to argue against Rachel's reason for happiness.

"Kurt, do you have any idea what this means to me? Every single person in the Unholy Trinity has called me attractive, something I never would have dreamed of back in high school. I'm defying the norms," Rachel explained.

"God, if I'd known it was going to be such a big deal I wouldn't have said anything at all," Santana grumbled. She got a weird look on her face like she was trying to remember something. "Wait, when did Britts call you attractive?"

"I called Rachel sexy in junior year when she wore the Britney Spears outfit? It was, like, really hot. Plus, it was practically dedicated to me," Brittany answered, bouncing up and down slightly. No one bothers to correct Brittany that the outfit was in honor Britney Spears, not Brittany. "And she _is_ hot, San. You've told me that before."

"Okay! This has been entirely too up close and personal. I'm outta here," Santana said, walking quickly out of the room and grabbing Brittany's hand on the way.

Kurt gave Quinn and Rachel a disapproving look. "I blame every outbreak of MRSA on you now," he sniffed before leaving the kitchen as well.

Now alone again, Quinn just looked at Rachel for a second before breaking out laughing. "You know, this would happen to us. Just our luck."

Rachel grinned at her, taking her hand in her own. "We can resume that later," Rachel suggested with a wink before leading the two of them back out into the reunion party.

**A/N: God, this chapter was my absolute favorite to write. Sorry for the Finn-bashing; I couldn't help it... Take it all with humor. Three more chapters to go, people!**

**My life is spiraling into a social mess. Like, really. So I'm glad I'd already written this chapter because I didn't honestly get much writing of chapter 22 done in the last week.**

**Next time: A twist to the happy reunion of friends.**


	21. Chapter 21

Rachel thought that the reunion was going fairly well, all things considered. Finn and Addy seemed to be avoiding her, Santana, Brittany, and Quinn like the plague and she hadn't seen Puck anywhere or the little blonde he kept hanging on him like a decoration. She wasn't mad at him or anything, but him being around made Quinn clam up.

Rachel relished in the chance she got to talk to Tina again, learning that the girl had gone on to own an alternative fashion retail chain. The two laughed at how Tina's interesting style of dress became her life and joked that thankfully Rachel hadn't done the same or there would be little argyle shops around town. It was light-hearted and fairly meaningless conversation since they hadn't spoken in a long time, but Rachel gave Tina her number and told the girl to call her if her business ever brought her to New York.

Brittany got to reconnect with someone who had apparently been one of her friends from middle school who was now dating Mike. Rachel heard part of that conversation- the ending part. Brittany had introduced her old friend to Brittany and Santana must have been getting some weird vibes off the girl- maybe because she was moderately pretty- because she was giving her bitchy smile like spam. Rachel knew that smile well. It wasn't the kind she received these days when Santana was joking around with her, but rather the kind when she really meant what she was saying.

"It's so cool that I got to see you again!" Brittany exclaimed to the woman.

"I'm so happy I got to see you, Brittany. And meeting your girlfriend was… nice" the woman returned, sending Mike a weird glance. Rachel figured that the woman didn't mean to call Santana nice. It must have been an accident of some kind, perhaps from shock.

Quinn must have also overheard this because she beckoned Santana over to her. "You have to stop antagonizing that poor woman. She's dating Mike, for God's sake," Quinn hissed.

Santana snorted. "I'm not jealous, you presumptuous woman. I don't like her because she stopped being Brittany's friend after she found out Brittany had kissed a girl," Santana defended. Rachel shot the woman in question a glare that probably wasn't received but it made her feel better anyway.

"Even still… look at how happy Brittany is talking to her," Quinn gestured to the Latina's girlfriend. Santana sighed. "Promise me you won't ruin this."

Santana shrugged. "Sure."

Quinn wasn't satisfied. "Swear on something important," she pressed.

"I swear on sex," Santana replied. Rachel had never heard a more serious vow in her life.

* * *

"Wow, I simultaneously can't believe it and know that I should have seen it coming," Artie commented to Rachel and Brittany. Quinn had physically dragged Santana away from the conversation before she could join in, knowing that Santana had some unresolved feelings for the man in the wheelchair and not the sort of unresolved feelings Quinn had for years. The I-want-to-rip-his-balls-off-and-use-them-as-hood-ornaments kind.

"I know how you feel. I was actually surprised when I heard that they _weren't_ together," Rachel sympathized.

"But I'll never let her get away again," Brittany added with a smile that could melt the hardest of hearts. Well, it already had, Rachel supposed, judging by the puddle of a heart Santana gave over fully to the blonde dancer.

"You know, even when we were dating I knew it wasn't quite right. You were always meant for her. And look at it now- you two are the only couple out of the many from Glee that made it," Artie said thoughtfully.

"I liked that you had wheels instead of legs. That's like, totally cool," Brittany said in a way that was probably meant to be appeasing but failed. Artie knew better than to get offended.

"Plus I thought you'd never have to get a car. You could just put an engine on your chair," Brittany added as an afterthought. Artie shook his head with a gentle eye roll, no doubt used to her odd comments. They were endearing in a strange sort of way.

* * *

The thing about the glee club reuniting was that pretty much everyone at the reunion was chatty, a bit of a drama queen, and had a lot of catching up to do. Ergo, the party lasted for a while. Brittany and Quinn were having a conversation with Mercedes and Rachel and Santana were in a small part of Breadstix that had been converted into a type sitting room, presumably for people waiting to be seated. They were catching up with Sam, but it was more like Rachel doing the catching up and Santana throwing in the odd and often offensive comment here and there.

"I mean, I was never very good at school stuff, but I got a pretty solid job as a personal trainer now," Sam explained. Rachel nodded like this was fascinating but she couldn't help thinking that being around a bunch of sweaty people all day suggesting how to make themselves more sweaty sounded terrible. Then again, she wasn't Sam. He would probably hate her job too. But who hated Broadway?

"Personal trainer? I thought you went back to that male stripper place," Santana commented lazily from her spot on the floor. She'd fallen off of the couch and maintained her opinion that the carpet was just as comfortable as the couch. Rachel suspected she just didn't have enough coordination at the moment to hoist herself back up.

"No, I realized that I can be more than just my body," Sam responded a little defensively.

Santana snorted. "Yes, because being a personal trainer isn't about objectifying your abs either," Santana said sarcastically. Sam looked offended and Rachel cringed. Santana caught on to their looks. "What? I managed to offend you? You always seemed like such a chill guy. You never even seemed to mind it _that_ much when I called you Trouty Mouth."

"I'm going to quote one of my favorite lesbians right now and say this: Santana, I have faith in you. There is no one that you cannot piss off," Rachel sighed.

"Seriously? Willow's your favorite lesbian? She ain't even real, Berry. You're _such_ a baby gay. I would've thought growing up in a house with two gay men would have trained you better," Santana replied.

"I don't get it," Sam chimed in. "Who's Willow?"

Rachel launched into a summary of the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer while Santana became more and more comfortable with the ground. After a few minutes Rachel could tell that she'd lost Sam's interest, which was weird because she thought he loved science fiction and fantasy stuff.

She turned to see if Santana was listening. Santana was making snow angels on the carpet. Ergo, she did not care about anything else at the moment.

* * *

After that conversation, Rachel found Quinn once more, missing her presence by her side. It was odd- she always tended to get rather attached when it came to relationships, but she wasn't even sure what exactly her relationship with Quinn was. They hadn't really talked about it since the night Quinn sung at the karaoke place. It was with these thoughts on her mind that Rachel tracked down Quinn in the bathroom.

"Hey… I had something to talk to you about," Rachel said when the two of them were alone together.

Quinn was busy trying to fix her makeup in the mirror. "Is it something serious? Because we're kind of in the middle of a party right now."

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to ask you because I've been asked… what are we exactly?" Rachel poised the question. Quinn groaned and put down the lipstick she'd been reapplying.

"Seriously? You want to have this conversation in a public bathroom?" Quinn questioned with an arched eyebrow.

"We've had a lot of serious conversations in bathrooms, you know," Rachel pointed out.

Quinn just rolled her eyes. "Be that as it may, I just want tonight to be fun. No heavy stuff, no deep conversations, just lots of talking and some alcohol."

Rachel pouted at that. "But it would be more fun if I knew what I am even supposed to call you. Are you my girlfriend? My friend that happens to like the way my mouth tastes?"

Quinn put away her makeup and shoved it in her purse. "I'm not having this conversation right now," she said somewhat coldly. Rachel wondered if this was an example of what Santana had warned her several times about- Quinn having times where she would close off emotionally for seemingly no good reason. Rachel didn't like it one bit.

"No, I have to know," Rachel pushed. Quinn met her eye.

"Look, this is all new for you, but it isn't for me. I've known I'm in love with you for seven years. You've just realized your feelings, what, a few weeks ago?" Quinn explained. Rachel felt like Quinn had dumped ice water on her good mood, completely extinguishing it.

"So you still don't trust me? Do you not believe me when I say that I love you?" Rachel demanded. She had her arms crossed over her chest. She couldn't believe that Quinn was doing this. She wasn't just cutting herself off- she was actually pushing Rachel away, in the middle of a reunion back in Lima of all places. Was Lima poison to the two girls? They never stopped fighting when they were in Ohio together.

Quinn's jaw worked, a visual sign of her obvious distress. "I know you mean it when you say you love me but you do have a… history of saying those words very early on in a relationship," Quinn said carefully. Rachel didn't care that she was trying to be gentle with her phrasing.

"So you don't want to label this because you're afraid I'll, what change my mind about how I feel about you? That I'm not really sure?" Rachel accused. Quinn said nothing. "I'm going to tell you a little story. When I was little, still in elementary school, I found a stray cat with mangled fur and a partially missing ear and very obviously sick. I brought him home and my dads said they would take him to a vet and see what they could do. They warned me not to name him because that would only make me more attached to him and he might not make it very long. I obeyed."

Quinn looked straight at Rachel through the story. Rachel figured Quinn already knew how the story was going to end, but she continued it anyway. "He died. And you know what? I cried for days. Weeks later seeing a picture of a cat still upset me. Just because he didn't have a name didn't make losing him any less sad."

Rachel waited for Quinn to say something, to admit that she saw the moral of the story and how it applied to them. But she would have to keep on waiting, because Quinn walked out of the bathroom without another word.

* * *

Rachel didn't want to make a scene in the middle of the reunion at Breadstix, so she did not chase after Quinn like she wanted to. Instead, she decided to get a quick breath of fresh air outside.

Once outside, Rachel headed in the direction of the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, planning on pacing a bit on the stretch of concrete. It was then that she noticed someone approaching her. Thinking it was someone from the party- perhaps Puck because he had a similar build, she paused and waited until he was close enough to make out his face.

When she could, her face scrunched up in confusion. She'd never seen this man before- he look to be in his twenties like her and had brown hair and dark eyes. His mouth was set in an intense frown.

"You," he addressed her simply. Rachel didn't know why, but his voice sent a chill down her spine. She dragged her eyes from him momentarily to see how far she was from Breadstix, but unfortunately, this guy was between her and the rest of her friends inside.

"I'm sorry, do I know you? Are you here with someone from the reunion?" Rachel asked, hoping that his answer would be yes, that he was just someone's new boyfriend or something. He continued drawing closer, and Rachel stumbled backwards a step or two. She was a little drunk and it was getting late and she didn't know this guy. That added up to a messy equation.

"You know Quinn," he said without question. Rachel felt a small flood of relief- he must know people from the reunion after all if he knew Quinn.

Rachel gave him a small smile. "Yes, where do you know her from? I can call her to come out here and say hello if you-"

"College. And you don't need to call her," the man cut her off briskly. Rachel felt an icy feeling creep up her spine at his tone. It didn't sound like him declining her offer; it sounded like him demanding that she didn't call. "I saw the two of you come out of the kitchen together. I was just walking around the side of the building, but there's a window by the door to the kitchen. What were you doing back there with her?"

Rachel swallowed hard, wondering if she could press Quinn's speed dial on her phone without this guy noticing. Or Kurt's. Or anyone that was currently in the building just across from her. This guy was really starting to make her nervous.

"I-I hardly think that's any of your business," Rachel said stiffly. She shifted her hand in front of her pocket where her phone was and pressed on it lightly through her pocket and the man locked onto the motion. She froze, afraid to make any sudden moves. Part of her hoped her phone had dialed someone's number. This guy reeked of bad news.

"What's your name? You're not Santana," the dark-haired man said. It seemed like a non sequitur to Rachel until she processed that Quinn had been dating Santana back in college and that this guy probably knew about it, which was rather curious. Rachel hadn't thought of Quinn to exactly be the type to be terribly open with people about her first relationship with a girl.

And then it clicked into place. Rachel's breathing hitched.

"But I guess I should have expected the bitch to continue being a slut," the man growled, taking two large steps toward Rachel. Rachel was seriously regretting drinking in that moment because she lost her balance as she tried to retreat from him and fell on her ass on the pavement below.

Trey. It was the only word that Rachel could think right now, and it wasn't one she wanted in her mind at all, no less a tangible thing before her.

"You're him…" Rachel trailed off. She hadn't even meant to say anything at all.

Trey sneered down at her. "So she told you about me? How sweet. Did she tell you about all the other people she's fucked… over?" he asked with a cruel pause that made Rachel's heart jump in her chest.

She could barely process right now. The man who had tried to hurt Quinn, the one that had left his permanent mark on her damaged mental state, was standing above her right now. Rachel couldn't remember ever being more afraid in her life. She couldn't summon her voice to call out, and even if she did, she doubted anyone would hear her from inside.

"I never got the chance to give that slut what she had coming, but would you look at this? God must be smiling at me today because I get to put some sense into one of her little dyke bitches," Trey growled.

Rachel couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. All she could do was squeeze her eyes shut as Trey kicked her in the stomach and laughed.

She sobbed from the pain of it and clutched her stomach. The force of his foot had pushed her across the pavement, dragging her sensitive skin along rough pavement. Surely her legs were bleeding from it judging by the burning sensation she felt.

"Don't cry, this is teaching you a lesson. People who fuck Quinn Fabray get fucked in the end. I'm just bringing it to you early," Trey laughed. Rachel cried, wishing she could be anywhere but here.

She felt another kick to the gut and felt herself gag, almost throwing up. In desperation she reached trembling hands into her pocket for her phone and blindly pressed on the keys, hoping she pressed a speed dial or accessed her contacts list. Seeing the phone, Trey hissed in anger and kicked it out of her hand, bruising her fingers in the process.

"Please, stop!" Rachel cried out, finally finding her voice too late. Her phone was probably broken from the force of Trey's foot.

"You want me to stop? Tell me you'll never see her ever again," Trey demanded.

Rachel looked up to meet his eye, seeing something in those dark eyes that terrified her even more than his beating of her. It was the look of someone who bought their own lies, of someone so good at deception that they'd duped themselves. He honestly believed he was helping her, and that was the worst possible way it could be. If he knew what he was doing was wrong, he might feel some guilt at his actions and Rachel could find a gap to escape.

Rachel heard some commotion coming from behind Trey but she couldn't see anything behind his towering form over her.

"No," she whispered.

"What?" Trey asked, incredulous.

"I said, _no_. I am in love with her," Rachel repeated, this time with more confidence. His eyes flashed with that insane look and he lifted his foot once more to aim for what looked to be her head. Rachel wondered if he had the angle correct for a blow that would kill her or leave her brain dead. She felt oddly removed and analytical in this moment as if emotions had been ripped away from her. Maybe this was what it was like to have an out-of-body experience.

She closed her eyes to accept what would surely wipe out her consciousness, but instead she heard a cry of pain. Was she that far removed that she heard her own cry of pain and thought it was someone else's?

Rachel lifted her head, realizing that she actually could still move. She saw Trey lying on the pavement across from her, clutching his face desperately and a large figure over top of him.

"That's right, God was smiling at you… because he knew you were about to get your face smashed in," Puck growled. He was shaking out his right hand, clearly just having punched Trey. He hit hard enough to draw blood, it seemed.

Rachel was whispering her thanks like they were all she knew. She thanked God, she thanked Puck, she thanked fate, and she thanked Apple for making her phone in such a way that it managed to call Puck when she'd just brushed against it at random. She must have dialed his number when she'd still had it in her pocket because Puck had heard Trey's comment about God smiling down on him. She'd have to get a new phone since hers was no doubt smashed into blacktop, much like her. And Trey.

Puck turned his attention to Rachel, crouching down to check on her, gently brushing hair from her face. "I want to get you to a hospital, but I'm gonna call the cops first to arrest this son of a bitch, okay?" he said softly. Rachel mumbled something in affirmation and Puck pulled out his cell to dial 911.

"Yeah, I'm at the Breadstix in Lima. This guy just beat a girl up outside. She's hurt," Puck summarized quickly. He stayed quiet, presumably listening to the operator on the line.

Rachel watched as Trey started to inch his way up, trying to stand up again. Puck glanced down at him and punched him in the temple, effectively knocking him out. "Yup, I've got him detained," Puck told the operator. Rachel would have laughed if her whole body didn't ache from being pummeled into the pavement.

She hurt like she couldn't ever remember hurting before, but at the same time she still had that removed quality to her presence of mind. She couldn't process how Trey had found the reunion or _why_, so she blocked it out, preferring to live in a world of absolutes that she knew- the police were coming, Noah was her savior, and she was alive. Those were really the only things that mattered… well, besides the one question that ran through her mind- where was Quinn?

She needed Quinn. She needed Quinn to see that Rachel hadn't backed down even when she was being beaten by the man who had forever changed Quinn's life. There were a few people like that in everyone's life, Rachel supposed. The first man to really change Quinn's life had probably been Puck, and then there had been Trey, both of whom were now out here with Rachel. Rachel supposed she might be someone who changed Quinn's life as well. Quinn had certainly changed _her_ life, and she hoped she would be able to change Quinn's just as much, for the better.

"They're on their way, babe." Rachel wanted to smile, but it wasn't Quinn's voice. It was Puck's. She knew logically that there was no way Quinn could have been there, that the only reason Puck had showed up was that Rachel had called him accidentally, that Quinn would be there in a heartbeat if she'd known.

She waited for the police and an ambulance to show up just a couple minutes later.

**A/N: Hard one for me to write, so I hope I did it justice. Anyone expecting that to happen? I've had it planned since around chapter 5 or so. I actually did some real planning for this story for once.**

**Just two more chapters to go, people. Remember that the more reviews you give me, the faster I give you more to read. And when this is done (I keep saying this) I'll be posting "Hunger Within", another Faberry story.**

**My life is turning abso-fucking-lutely upside-down. So I thank anyone who reads and reviews this because it sets my world a little more rightside-up.**

**Next time: Quinn reacts to what Trey has done to Rachel.**


	22. Chapter 22

Rachel had passed out when the ambulance workers had tried to lift her onto a stretcher and into the vehicle. She vaguely registered that people were flooding out of the restaurant to see what all the commotion was about. She could have sworn she saw a figure with blonde hair rushing the scene and being restrained.

When she woke up in the hospital, she was alone in the room with Quinn holding her hand. Her mind was scrambled and she wasn't sure of exactly anything.

"Rachel, oh thank God," Quinn murmured, squeezing her fingers. Her face held the worries of many years beyond the ones she'd actually lived through.

Rachel let herself take a moment to just breath and swallow and look around the room. Normal things. Static things. Quinn was tumultuous, always changing, and Rachel couldn't look at her too long for fear of motion sickness. She probably was on a morphine drip or something because he brain was fuzzy. Maybe not morphine… she hadn't been _that_ hurt, had she?

"You still there?" Quinn asked softly. Her voice was a soft caress to Rachel's ears, but she knew that something was wrong. She fought hard to remember why Quinn's voice sounded wrong.

And then she remembered. She remembered that the last time she'd heard Quinn's voice it had been cold and scathing followed by carefully disappointed. Guarded. Rachel thought they'd moved pasted Quinn's insurmountable walls that she kept around her heart, but Rachel had to traverse them again in the bathroom of all places. What was it with the two of them and bathrooms?

"Sweetie…" Quinn whispered, stroking Rachel's hair. She was worried.

"I was on the pavement bleeding out for you. You've questioned me… but if this isn't proof, then he may as well have actually killed me," Rachel said. When she heard her own voice it sounded scratchy.

She watched Quinn's face contort into one of guilt. That wasn't an expression Rachel had seen very often, but it was fitting for the occasion. Quinn had tried to distance herself from Rachel by not admitting to a relationship, by trying to keep it like a trial run. But Rachel had stood up to the man Quinn was most frightened of and didn't back down even as he kicked her down. Quinn's face was white as a sheet.

"Have I proved myself to you yet?" Rachel spat out. She was angry, and she heard a strong beeping start to go off. In that moment, three people rushed into the room: two nurses and Santana.

"BP is 175 over 102," one of the nurses called out. The other one pushed Quinn away from Rachel's bedside.

Rachel passed out.

* * *

Rachel woke up for a short while and Quinn was still there. Rachel wasn't sure Quinn even knew she was awake, but she was talking.

"I'm trying very hard to not lose you. I wish you could see that… no, I wish I was good at conveying that. I don't want to fuck up, but my version of fucking up used to be slipping up and letting you, or anyone, know I loved you. So I've had to change my definition of fucking up. I don't know how to keep you, I just know that I would do anything to do so. Teach me, Rachel," Quinn whispered.

Rachel said nothing. She couldn't. Quinn was crying and staring at Rachel's knuckles and confessing her insecurities. It wasn't a moment for Rachel to invade on, and Rachel felt herself slipping back into sleep.

"I wish I could have been there today. I _should_ have been there. I left you alone when you were feeling vulnerable and that… that… _he_ found you instead." Rachel certainly hoped she was talking about Trey with that voice of disgust and not Puck. She couldn't be sure, and she couldn't ask. Her tongue gave up on any hope of moving in intelligible sequences required for speech.

* * *

When Rachel woke up again, Quinn was gone.

"Thank Jesus you decided to wake up again. I've actually considered conversing with cancer-guy across the hall from you because you were out for a while," Santana griped. Rachel grinned at Santana being perfectly her even in times of distress. It set her world straight after it had been turned upside down.

"Why are you here?" Rachel asked. She probably should have thanked Santana for being there first or something, but that wasn't the way their friendship really worked. Plus, the drugs got to her head a little and shut down whatever filter she actually had on a good day.

Santana scoffed. "Gee, I think it's really cool that I'm here with you too, Berry. I think it's awesome that I volunteered to stay behind when they kicked your girlfriend out of your room."

Rachel's eyes narrowed. Why would they have kicked Quinn out of her room? "Where's Quinn?" she had to ask.

Santana let out a sigh. "When you woke up the first time, you got angry at her and your blood pressure spiked. You then passed out but kept mumbling that Quinn didn't trust you or something. The doctors decided to keep Quinn out of the room since she was obviously setting you off and they were worried about you losing consciousness since you have a concussion," Santana explained.

This was still a lot of information for Rachel to take in, but she tried to piece it all together. "And Trey?"

Santana nodded once. "They arrested McDouchepants," she said. She added almost smugly, "He has a little bit of a different face since Puck got to him. Let's say this version has a new and improved nose and all the colors of the gay rainbow he hates so much."

"Good," Rachel replied. The two fell quiet. Rachel was sure Santana didn't really know what else to say, but she probably wanted to ask why Rachel was so upset with Quinn. Rachel tried to think of a good way to explain that one. "Quinn and I fought just before Trey found me. I went outside to get some fresh air and ran into him."

Santana ground her teeth in suppressed anger. Rachel hoped most of it was directed at Trey and not Quinn, but she couldn't exactly be sure.

"She's still in the waiting room. Refused to leave. The doctors told her she wouldn't be allowed in until you were stable and gave permission for her to, but she's a stubborn one, so she waited," Santana informed her. Rachel had to smile at Quinn's stubborn nature when it was to protect and stand by her.

"She can come in," Rachel responded quietly. Santana gave her an uncertain look. "Please," she added to ensure Santana knew that's what she wanted.

Santana nodded and left the room. Rachel waited for Quinn to return and thought about what had happened. The whole experience seemed surreal in a sort of way, like she still hadn't woken up from the dream she'd fallen into sometime during her encounter with Trey. She hadn't really felt present then, and the feeling had carried over into the now. It was like she was waiting for someone to shake her shoulder and tell her to wake up, that she was having a nightmare. But sometimes nightmares are just as scary as reality. What else would our imaginations draw from?

It wasn't more than two minutes later that Quinn was rushing into Rachel's room and taking a seat on the chair next to Rachel's bed that Santana had previously been occupying. Quinn greeted her with a soft "hey" but stayed silent, knowing it was up to Rachel where there conversation went now.

"So I've been informed that I freaked out on you a little when I was last awake. I remember telling you how I was bleeding for you, but I realize now that that statement probably didn't make altogether that much sense to you without the rest of the story that accompanies it," Rachel started with a true to form long sentence.

Quinn quirked an eyebrow at that. "I think you made yourself fairly clear. You got hurt because you loved me. If it wasn't for me, Trey would never have showed up at that Breadstix."

Rachel shook her head. "No, that's not all. When Trey found me, he… he had seen us coming out of the kitchen through a window. He knew that we were together," Rachel started to explain. She saw Quinn flinch and she quickly grabbed the blonde's hand. She might still be mad at the woman, but she wasn't heartless. This was a point where Quinn would probably start blaming herself for everything, and Rachel had to hold her hand to help her through it.

"He decided that he could beat the homosexuality out of me. That he could make me stop loving you. Partway through, when I begged him to stop-" Rachel paused suddenly when she felt Quinn's hand trembling and a hint of tears in her eyes. She took a deep breath and rubbed her thumb over Quinn's knuckles. "He told me he would stop if I promised to never see you ever again."

"And you said no," Quinn filled in the ending for her. Rachel nodded her affirmation and a tear fell from Quinn's eye before she rushed to brush it away as if wiping it off her face would make it never have happened.

"That's why I was so angry waking up. You doubted my love for you, but I literally bled out for you," Rachel confirmed. Another tear escaped from Quinn's eyes.

"This is all my fault. If I hadn't come into your life, you never would have had to encounter that man-" Quinn began spilling apologies and pointing the blame at herself.

"Quinn," Rachel cut her off. "Do _not_, _ever_, place blame for acts of homophobic violence on yourself," she said emphatically. Quinn just stared at her dumbly, lost for words. "What happened was absolutely no one's fault but the bigoted asshole who we've both now had the misfortune of meeting."

Rachel took a moment to collect herself. "That being said, I am still angry that you pushed me away yesterday during our conversation in the bathroom."

"I pushed you away because- well, I'm sure you already know- I felt cornered, threatened, and my knee-jerk reaction was to run. I didn't want to label our relationship because I'm still so afraid that you're going to realize that you could do so much better than me. I know that's not fair to you, that it's no excuse for me saying what I did, but you have the right to at least know what was going through my head. I don't know how much more I can say besides the fact that I am truly very sorry and I'd like the chance to make it up to you," Quinn apologized thoroughly.

Rachel's mouth quirked into a half smile. "You know, that rant was almost good enough to be one of mine," she joked. Quinn let out a small chuckle. "But yes, you can certainly have another chance. We wouldn't be anywhere if the two of us didn't give each other second chances."

And then silence overtook them again. They stayed wrapped up in each other, hands entangled, and eyes locked onto one another like there was nothing they'd rather look at in the world.

"You can start making it up to me by getting me some water," Rachel decided.

Quinn grinned and squeezed Rachel's hand once before getting up to do as she requested. Rachel stared at the ceiling, wondering when it had gotten so far away. Wondering when sleep had gotten so close.

* * *

When Rachel woke up, she didn't open her eyes right away. Her room was much more crowded than before; she could tell because she caught pieces of a whispered argument.

"I don't think we should all be back here at once and I haven't had a chance to see her yet," cam Kurt's voice. He sounded a little bit irritated.

"I've been in here, but I just wanted to drop this off for her. I bought it at the hospital gift shop," Brittany piped up. Rachel wanted to grin at the fact that Brittany had bought her something.

"If anyone's leaving, it definitely won't be me," Quinn said, metaphorically putting her foot down.

"Oh, really? You've been here, like, the whole time except for five minutes when Santana was here," Kurt fought back. Rachel felt warm inside that Quinn had been staying with her even when she was just sleeping.

"Could you all shut the fuck up? Can't you see she's sleeping?" Santana hissed.

"Since when did you care?" Quinn snapped.

"Oh, boo. I have a hangover too, so I have an ulterior motive," Santana admitted.

Rachel let her eyes flick open. "You can all stay, I'm already awake," she greeted her friends. They all turned to look at her as one, but Brittany was the first to speak.

She held out a bear holding three fake flowers that had "Get Well Soon" stitched across his chest. "I got you this at the little shop. I like that hospitals have little shops. It's like… a bright spot of happy in the middle of a bunch of sad."

Rachel beamed at the tall blonde and reached out to take the bear and snuggle it next to her on the hospital bed. "Thank you," she replied. Brittany smiled back at her.

Her friends talked about everything except what had brought them all to the hospital. It was a little frustrating because it became a large elephant in the room, but Rachel let it go. She knew that they didn't want to upset her, and she honestly didn't want to talk about it, but she also thought they didn't need to act like they were all at the hospital for a party.

So she just sighed and played along.

* * *

Rachel had to stay in the hospital for the next three days, but she was released with a fairly clean bill of health after that. Thankfully she hadn't broken any bones, but she did experience a lot of blood loss and some head trauma that the doctors had been worried about.

Before checking out of the hospital, Quinn was sitting and waiting with Rachel for the doctor.

"I'm thinking of quitting my job," Quinn blurted out suddenly. Rachel turned to the blonde with surprise. Rachel hadn't really thought much about Quinn's job recently. It had become almost a regularity, something to just be accepted.

"Wow, that's… why?" Rachel couldn't help asking. It was strange- Quinn had seemed adamant about continuing on with stripping the last time they'd talked about it.

"I only stripped for the easy money and to get over my fear. I realize now that I'm never going to stop being afraid of some men initially, but I really have gotten better. And, well, I've saved up a reasonable amount of money to take some online classes and pay off my student loans, but some of them I'd have to go in for a presentation or two… in New Haven. I can still graduate from Yale if I want," Quinn said in a rush of excitement.

Rachel grinned at her, so beyond thrilled at this news. "I'm so happy for you making this decision. You know that I would support you either way, but I think you'll be happier going back to school."

Rachel bit her lip, wondering what this meant for them. New Haven wasn't exactly in New York City's backyard. Quinn had just moved to New York and Rachel didn't want her leaving so soon. Not when they were on the precipice of a relationship of some kind.

Quinn looked down at her lap, playing with the edge of her skirt. "I think so. I'd have to travel to New Haven a couple times, but I think I could make it work still."

That put Rachel at ease. Quinn wasn't planning on moving out of New York. She'd get to keep Quinn close by, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

The doctors advised that Rachel should continue to go to therapy. It's funny, Rachel thought, because they couldn't mandate that she go because they weren't that sort of doctor. The mental state and the physical state were so separated when it came to many medical fields, but in reality mental health and physical health are so related.

Kurt went over to Michael's for the night so that Rachel could talk to Quinn. Rachel was nervous about this, but she knew that the two of them needed to talk.

"I'm so sorry for what I said at the reunion. I should never… and I could've lost you if… What if your phone hadn't called Puck?" Quinn trailed off and interrupted herself more than once. She was visibly distraught and Rachel wanted to reassure her, but her worries were not misplaced.

"Yes, it is true that what you said holds absolutely no bearing in how a relationship should run, particularly given our history, but I don't want you blaming yourself. You should be sorry for what you said regardless of Trey's involvement," Rachel said, trying to keep her voice from sounding harsh. Quinn flinched at Trey's name and Rachel grabbed the blonde's hand. "We've both been hurt by him now."

Quinn nodded. "He must have heard about the reunion from someone we both used to know or something. He was probably looking for me, not you," Quinn gave Rachel a look. "I know you're about to tell me to not blame myself, and I'm not. I'm just trying to make sense of this."

Rachel closed her open mouth. She had indeed been about to say just that. She too was confused by just how obsessed Trey was with tracking Quinn down. He had to have severe mental issues to work out in order to be that determined.

"I don't want to talk about Trey today anymore. I can't. I'm sure you understand," Rachel whispered, her hands squeezing Quinn's one tightly. Quinn nodded, trying to keep herself from crying. They were both harmed by this one man and neither wanted to bring up their memories of him. Sometimes all it takes is a memory to make everything hurt all over again.

"What are we?" Rachel asked instead. Quinn looked at her like she was contemplating exactly how to answer the question perfectly. Perhaps she was.

In lieu of answering with words, Quinn leaned forwards to capture Rachel's lips with her own. Rachel felt like she was coming home twice in one day- once from the hospital and once to Quinn's lips. They were perfect for her and she wanted nothing else in that moment. Well, except an answer.

"Quinn… answer me," Rachel begged gently.

Quinn shrugged. "My life was like an empty jar. It got filled up with all sorts of things- good things, bad things. But it was never quite complete. You filled up my jar, filled that final space between all the cracks. I'm broken, yeah, but you fill those cracks, so I don't feel so shattered," she answered honestly.

"You fill my jar too. You fill it with gardenias," Rachel replied as she traced the lines on Quinn's palm. She thought back to her first kiss with Quinn, how she'd seen gardenias. It hadn't made much sense at the time, but it did now.

When the two of them had been in high school, they'd circled around each other, always involved in one another's lives. They dove in and attacked each other, but they also were involved in healing each other's wounds at rare intervals. Quinn constantly reminded Rachel that she was meant for more than a life with Lima and Finn. Rachel constantly reminded Quinn that she was beautiful on the outside and so much more on the inside. But there was one instance that connected them that wasn't about fighting or healing, and that was Rachel suggesting that Finn get Quinn a gardenia.

It was that moment that Rachel can look back on as her first feeling a spark of something when it came to Quinn. It wasn't really attraction, not yet, but it was her just _noticing_ Quinn. Noticing that she'd been paying attention. She knew what kind of flower would be perfect for Quinn and what ribbon would match her eyes. She realized that she wanted Quinn to have the perfect prom because that was what she knew the girl had dreamed about since being a child.

Gardenias are white and pure and beautiful, and that's still how Rachel viewed Quinn, even after her pregnancy, even after finding out she was a stripper, after _everything_. Quinn had the sort of purity that the world couldn't take no matter how hard it tried.

Rachel didn't even notice that she'd started kissing Quinn again at some point during her inner thoughts about gardenias. Maybe it was to see if she saw those white flowers again instead of fireworks. Maybe it was because she just couldn't help herself anymore. She didn't really know, but all she cared about was the fact that Quinn was kissing her back like Rachel offered her relief from pain. Maybe she did.

There were too many maybes, so Rachel lived in the sureties. Quinn was here. Quinn loved her.

Rachel pulled away. "I love you," Quinn stole the words from Rachel's mouth. Perhaps that's what she'd been doing with her tongue in Rachel's mouth, the brunette thought sardonically. "And all I want is to be in a relationship with you."

Rachel sighed in pleasure at hearing that. "You only ever had to ask. Oh, wait, I didn't hear a question in there," she teased. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Will you be my girlfriend?" Quinn asked with fake reluctance. Rachel giggled and nodded emphatically.

"Now fulfill your number one duty of being my girlfriend and resume kissing me. We were rudely interrupted by Santana a few days ago, and I believe we promised to pick up where we left off," Rachel informed Quinn who just laughed.

"Does that mean I need get you up against the stove again?" Quinn inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

"You can have me wherever you want me," Rachel replied with a smirk. She enjoyed watching Quinn's cheeks color followed by the small noise in the back of the woman's throat that sounded suspiciously like a growl.

Oh, and Quinn pushing her down onto the couch. She enjoyed that too. She smirked into the kiss, thinking that this would be the second couch to witness sex in her apartment.

**A/N: This is the second to last chapter. I'm actually kind of sad that I'll be ending this. It's been quite a ride for these two. Both of them make mistakes and I'm sure you guys have been upset at at least one or two characters at some point over the duration of this story. Good. I don't write perfect people, and I don't even write broken people that know every way that they're broken. Sometimes people make mistakes that they don't even recognize as mistakes. Those are the kind of people I like writing about.**

**Parts of this story have been very personal for me, so I want to thank you for reading and reviewing this work. It means a lot to me.**

**And side note? This was actually my least favorite chapter to write because it was set in a hospital for the majority of the time and I have a deep-set phobia of hospitals. So be kind, it was difficult.**

**The next and last chapter will be an epilogue of sorts, so I'll see you guys then.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Epilogue- About a year later…**

"Guess who's engaged, bitches?" Santana called out as she entered Rachel and Quinn's apartment with Brittany. After Rachel and Quinn had been dating a couple months, Kurt suggested that he finally move in with Michael and let Rachel and Quinn live together. They found a new place together, wanting to start new instead of just having Quinn move in and feel like she was taking Kurt's place.

Rachel ran to the door squealing. "I _knew_ it! Quinn, come out here! I was so right!"

Rachel embraced Brittany first since the blonde was always up for hugging, but she soon switched to pull Santana in for a hug too. Santana didn't even protest. Quinn walked into the room wearing a smirk.

"I didn't tell her, just like you promised," Quinn said to the two that had just walked in the door. Rachel whipped her head around to glare at her girlfriend.

"You _knew_?" Rachel accused. Quinn's smirk only grew.

"I thought you just said you knew?" she teased. Rachel let out a classic huff.

"Yes, but I didn't actually know. I mean, I had a good guess, but you knew for real and you didn't share!" Rachel complained.

Brittany reached out to tap Rachel on the shoulder. "Don't blame Quinn. I asked her not to tell you."

Now Rachel was just plain confused. "Wait, you knew this was happening too?" Rachel inquired. It wouldn't make much sense that Brittany knew that Santana was going to propose.

"Duh, how else would I have bought the rings?" Brittany replied. Rachel looked back and forth between Brittany and Santana, noticing that Santana was blushing ever so lightly. Rachel put the pieces together.

"You mean you proposed to her?" Rachel asked Brittany incredulously. She had always expected Santana to be the one to propose. She had been the one to finally take a step forward back in high school, though she did receive a certain amount of pushing from Brittany. Santana had also been the one to label their new relationship by asking Brittany on a proper date shortly after they met up again in New York.

"Yup. She got to ask me to be her girlfriend, so it's only fair that I got to ask her to be my wife," Brittany explained. Santana gave her a loving look that made Rachel melt inside, but then Santana felt the need to start yelling again.

"I'm engaged! That means we are getting trashed!" Santana yelled. "Someone call the rest of the Gay Squad, because we gots to get our drink on."

Quinn picked up the phone to call Kurt and Michael to invite them over. She joined Santana in raiding the liquor cabinet to pull out just about everything and get out some glasses. It was going to be an interesting night in.

* * *

Rachel was talking to Brittany when both of them ended up in the bathroom at the same time.

"Both times that I've been in love with someone, they've slept with Santana before me. It hurts my pride just a little, but it also makes me just a tad curious," Rachel said. She wasn't sure how they got on the topic. It was true though- she'd been in love with Finn and he lost his virginity to Santana, and Quinn's first time with a girl had been with Santana. It was weird.

"If you want, we can switch for the night. I've always wondered what Quinn tastes like because Santana was with her for so long that she must have tasted good," Brittany suggested a little too eagerly for Rachel's comfort.

"Um, no thanks, Brittany," Rachel declined politely. She knew that to Brittany it was just an offer of kindness and sharing, but to Rachel it was propositioning to be swingers, and that wasn't how Rachel rolled.

* * *

A couple drinks in, Rachel decided it would be a great idea if she spoke to Santana and Brittany separately and alone to see what their perspective was on their engagement. It seemed like something a friend should do, but her good friend Jack Daniels might have been driving a little in this situation.

So, the six people currently in Rachel and Quinn's apartment split up into pairs. Rachel wasn't sure who anyone else got, but they decided that they would just rotate.

* * *

"So, Brittany, what made you decide to propose to Santana today?" Rachel asked.

Brittany tapped her index finger against her chin in thought. "Well, it was sunny out and we were skipping and earlier today I saw a show that had cheerleaders on it and it reminded me that we used to do that together and I want to do just about everything together, so we may as well just get married already."

Rachel nodded sagely. "So you proposed while you were skipping through New York with her? Any particular place?" she asked.

Brittany shrugged. "Nope. The place doesn't really matter. As long as I'm with her, we could be in Narnia for all I care. Actually, I'd like to be in Narnia. Can we go through your closet? This apartment's closets are, like, super cool."

* * *

"Tell me how you feel about this engagement," Rachel said seriously, watching the face of the person in front of her carefully. She had to make sure her friend was taking this seriously.

"Um, inevitable? Why are you asking me?" Kurt asked in confusion.

"Shut up, Hummel. This rotation system is important," Rachel huffed.

* * *

"So, what do you think you'll do for your honeymoon?" Rachel asked once she got past Michael and to Santana, who she was actually looking for.

"Well, I was thinking maybe Sea World. B likes the dolphins. But last time we talked about it, before she even proposed, she said she didn't understand what would be so special about our honeymoon. She told me we already have crazy amounts of sex with each other and that's what the honeymoon's supposed to be about, so she suggested that we have sex with other people on our honeymoon," Santana said.

Rachel screwed up her face in confusion. "That's just… weird. I don't like that idea at all. It reminds me of one time when I was talking to Brittany earlier tonight and she offered to let me have my way with you for a night if she could have Quinn in your place."

Santana started blushing furiously, which Rachel didn't understand. "She told me she wouldn't tell you about that," Santana said, embarrassed.

"About what?" Rachel asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Don't play dumb to make me repeat all the details that I'm sure Brittany told you about that dream. I swear it was only one time. I think I had a contact high from my roommate at the time too," Santana snapped.

"Wait… you had a sex dream about me?" Rachel asked, eyes widened.

"Wait… isn't that how Brittany brought up the trading thing?" Santana froze.

"No…" Rachel trailed off. The two stared at each other, neither of them wanting to be there in that moment.

"Okay, this is one of those conversations that we're never going to mention ever again unless you want to be properly silenced with my fist in you mouth or ear," Santana said to settle things.

Rachel cleared her throat. "Right. So… Sea World?"

* * *

The rotation continued so that the next person could talk to Santana, but this time Rachel got Quinn. The blonde gave her a wicked smile as she walked in.

"So I think we're supposed to talk about our good friends' engagement, but I'd rather make out like horny teenagers," Quinn suggested without shame. Rachel grinned back and complied, beckoning Quinn toward her.

"You really know how to romance a girl," Rachel responded sardonically.

"Shush, I know you love it when I'm blunt," Quinn chastised lightly. Rachel laughed let Quinn pull her onto her lap and start kissing her.

Rachel sighed into Quinn's lips. Even after a year of kissing Quinn, it was still quite the experience and never the same twice. Rachel wondered if Quinn read up on kissing techniques or something to mix things up, but then again, she settled on the fact that Quinn just "had it" as Santana would probably put it.

"Sometimes you make me feel like a teenager again," Rachel whispered, never letting her lips get more than an inch away from Quinn's. Quinn recaptured her lips in a searing kiss that made Rachel wish they didn't have company over.

"I don't want you to be a teenager. That either means I'm a pedophile or I have to be a teenager with you, and teenage me was no fun to be around," Quinn complained. Rachel kissed down Quinn's neck, paying particular care to her pulse point, loving the way it made Quinn squirm under her.

"She's cold and she's cruel, but she knows what she's doing," Rachel sung quietly, her lips just brushing over the skin on Quinn's neck. Quinn chuckled and ran her hands through Rachel's long brown hair. "She pushed me in the pool at our last school reunion."

Quinn pulled Rachel up by the chin and interrupted her singing so she could kiss her properly, but Rachel pulled away, teasing her girlfriend. She stood up and backed away a few steps.

"She laughs at my dreams, but I dream about her laughter," Rachel sung a little louder. Strange as it seems, she's the one I'm after!"

Quinn practically tackled Rachel back to the ground, kissing her soundly. "I never pushed you in the pool. Now let me kiss you for the last couple minutes until Kurt or someone comes knocking for their turn in this stupid rotation."

Rachel gave in. It wasn't hard to when her girlfriend was a sexy blonde who wanted to kiss her.

* * *

There was furious knocking at the door. "I'm coming in there in exactly five seconds and if you're not decent you'll have to be paying for the years of therapy I'll need," Kurt yelled through the door.

Quinn groaned and continued trying to kiss Rachel even as the latter rolled off of her. Kurt, as promised, entered the closet that the two had been sitting in. Rachel had picked that as one of the rotation spots. There were three total: the closet, the bedroom, and the kitchen. She didn't know why she picked the closet, but it worked.

"Thank you," Kurt sighed at seeing the two of them detached from each other and attached to their clothing. "Party's going on still," he informed them.

Quinn and Rachel joined the rest of the Gay Parade, as Santana often called their little group of friends. They'd all grown closer after living in New York together for over a year. Rachel had original pestered Kurt about when he was going to get married to Michael, but Kurt explained that the two of them weren't planning on ever getting married. It wasn't important to them; they knew they loved each other and that was all that mattered.

"Can we play Flip Cup? I just learned how," Brittany asked excitedly. Santana let out a groan.

"Someone say no. This girl will give us all alcohol poisoning with how well she plays that game," Santana warned them.

"Sold," Michael threw in. Santana mimed slamming her head into the nearest wall but complied as they pulled out the plastic cups and some beer to play.

* * *

It turns out Santana wasn't exaggerating by much when describing how good Brittany was. Everyone but Brittany ended up drinking a lot, enough to make them "properly drunk" as Michael deemed them.

"I am going to hide my makeup bag in your kitchen lamp-thingy that hangs from the ceiling," Santana informed Quinn and Rachel.

"Okay," Rachel replied. That made sense. Oh wait… "No it doesn't," Rachel mumbled out loud.

"What doesn't?" Quinn asked, confused. Rachel blinked, forgetting for a moment that not everyone lived in her head.

"Oh. Why are you putting your makeup bag in my light fixture?" Rachel addressed Santana.

"Because I'm letting Auntie Snix out, and she likes to piss out sober Santana. One time she hid my hair straightener under the bed. That was the meanest prank ever," Santana informed Rachel.

"She looked like a poodle until she found it," Quinn snickered. Santana hit her on the arm.

"I never understood why she named her drunk alter ego Snix when she could just call it Satan. It's actually in her name. It fits her personality so well, too," Kurt mused. Santana went to hit him in the arm too but lost her balance and ended up falling on his lap instead. This was somehow worse to Kurt and he shrieked and froze until Santana regained balance and stood up again.

"Pipe down, I ain't gonna kill you," Santana growled.

"This tie alone probably cost more than your whole outfit. I don't want you ruining it," Kurt sniffed. Michael rubbed his back and whispered comfortingly that Santana's mere presence was not enough to ruin his precious tie.

"So, about this wedding…" Michael trailed off. He was just as excited as the others to have a wedding in their group of friends even though he hadn't known them for as long.

"Let me guess, a trip to Vegas and back?" Kurt drawled, glaring at Santana.

"No, but I'm not wearing white. I look so much better in red," Brittany answered. Rachel was again surprised- she would have expected Brittany to be the one to go for a big white traditional wedding.

"Can it be short? That's all I ask. Oh, and def not dry," Santana added. Brittany smiled and agreed.

"Can we have clowns?" Brittany asked.

Santana managed to take it in stride. "Maybe at the reception, sweetie." This was going to be the most interesting wedding ever.

* * *

**About two months later…**

Quinn laid in her bed intertwined with Rachel. These were her absolute favorite moments, whether they'd just had sex or cuddled for a while, that moment right before they would fall asleep. She got to hold Rachel in her arms and play with her hair or run her hands across the smaller girl's palms or just stroke her back. It was relaxing and usually quiet, but sometimes they would have conversations as well.

This time it was fairly quiet. Rachel's back was nestled into her front, so Quinn couldn't actually tell if she was awake, but she continued twisting the same lock of brown hair between her fingertips. It was a mindless habit she had whenever she was bored and alone with Rachel- playing with her hair. It was always so soft and long that it made for a good distraction for her otherwise idle hands.

Sometimes Quinn used this time to just think back on the past year and a half since Rachel had come back into her life. At the start of it, Quinn had been just in the middle of reaffirming who she is as a person. She was stripping for money and confidence and making a place for herself. She was just outside of Lima, but she wasn't miserable. She missed people, sure, especially Rachel and Brittany. But she still had Santana, and that was what mattered at that point in her life.

That first moment when she'd made eye contact with none other than Rachel Berry at her strip club was one she would never forget. She felt three emotions well up all at once: fear, shame, and excitement. She was so afraid that Rachel would know and tell everyone that they used to know that the great HBIC had become a stripper. She was ashamed that the first time the love of her life saw her after six years was winding her body around a pole in minimal clothing. And she was excited that she got to lay eyes on the face that she'd missed so much that it made her heart ache.

Quinn remembered shoving Rachel up against the wall of the strip club out of fear. She used to feel a lot of guilt over doing that until Rachel confessed to her not too long ago that that instance had actually turned her on more than anything. Quinn made it a point to push Rachel up against the brick wall of Rachel's dance studio after hours after learning that tidbit.

Sometimes Quinn couldn't believe how far they'd come. She had been dating Rachel Berry for over a year, and it wasn't always easy, but it was consistent. She knew she sometimes still shut down on Rachel, especially when she was having flashbacks.

She'd been getting flashbacks ever since the first incident with Trey, but they'd gotten much better once she resumed going to therapy. She was able to say his name now without clamming up and she was able to go out dancing even if there were tall muscular brunette men nearby. She was able to have conversations with Puck again, even if she hadn't agreed to see Beth for her upcoming tenth birthday.

Sometimes Rachel's schedule was a point of contention or the fact that Quinn didn't let Rachel accompany her when she had to go up to New Haven for a presentation or major test. She didn't want to get distracted by having Rachel there.

Quinn loved that she was getting her diploma in a couple months. She'd worked hard, and she would be getting a degree in English, which she always joked was the least useful of all jobs, but in fact, she already had a job interview lined up. She was going to work in a PR department at Michael's company now that he'd taken it over from Frankie. Frankie was doing Broadway full time now, so he'd left his company to Michael. Michael insisted on interviewing Quinn along with everyone else, but he knew she'd be wonderful at public relations. She was also using all those writing classes to work on writing a novel.

She's titled her novel _Fill My Jar_ based on her own description of how Rachel had filled her jar, even all the little cracks. She remembered how Rachel had said Quinn had filled her jar with gardenias, so she wanted a picture of a jar of gardenias on the cover of her novel whenever she finally got it published. The book was about a young girl who grew up in a home where she wasn't allowed to share her own thoughts, so she writes them in a journal, but then she loses the journal. Someone else picks it up and reads it, adding their own thoughts. It gets passed around the town and everyone adds to it until it finally makes its way back to the main character.

"You're thinking too loud," Rachel grumbled. Quinn chuckled, thinking how that was just such a Rachel thing to say. "Can't sleep with all that noise."

Quinn released the strand of hair she'd been holding. "I'm sorry."

"Want to let me into that wonderful head of yours?" Rachel asked sleepily.

Quinn let out her breath in a long stream of air, watching how it moved Rachel's hair. "I was just thinking about us. Where we started a year and a half ago. Where we are now."

Rachel hummed in response. Quinn could tell she was tired because her responses became shorter or nonexistent. She was never like this any other time of the day. When she woke up, she was just as energetic as during the rest of the day. It was like she didn't stop chugging along until they crawled into bed and actually got ready to fall asleep.

"We did it, you know," Quinn whispered. Rachel just snored lightly in response and Quinn smiled, knowing that being able to talk to a sleeping Rachel curled up in her arms was all she needed.

* * *

**About three months later...**

Santana was freaking out.

She was ready to get married to Brittany, that was for sure, but that didn't help to quell her nerves. Part of her was still fearful that when she would walk into the chapel that someone would be there screaming at her for being a heathen. She was human, and her sexuality was something that she still struggled with even after being firmly out of the closet for many years.

She was confident in her orientation and even more so about her love for Brittany. That girl was everything that was right with Santana's world. She would go anywhere with Brittany. If her girl wanted to go to Madagascar to save the monkeys, Santana would have plane tickets booked that night. If she wanted to organize a gay pride parade outside of Mormon churches, she would have Facebook statuses and Twitter updates about it and ads in the papers.

That being said, she wasn't without fear. She was afraid that people would judge her love for Brittany and accuse them of going against God's will. Santana knew that her relationship with God was often strained if anything at all, but she trusted the Big Man to put her seal of approval on love. After all, it was better than the violence that other people tried to use Him to justify.

Santana wasn't sure where the religious thoughts were coming from. She blamed being in a church building.

She took a deep breath and grabbed Quinn's hand. Santana and Brittany had decided that they would each have a best man and a maid of honor. Santana's maid of honor was Quinn because, really, it couldn't ever have been anyone else. Her best man was Michael. Brittany's maid of honor was Rachel, which was just perfect because the two of them were really best friends, and her best man was Kurt. They didn't want anyone else in the wedding party with the exception of Lord Tubbington as the ring bearer. Brittany had spent countless hours training him to come when she shook a treat can so they could tie the rings to his collar and he could run up the aisle.

Santana just hoped he didn't pee on the church carpet. God might smite him for that.

"You can do this," Quinn whispered. Santana took in a shaky breath and burrowed herself in Quinn's arms.

Their relationship was a complicated one. They'd been literally just about everything- acquaintances, teammates, enemies, friends, best friends, rivals, lovers. Santana would always have a special place in her heart for Quinn because the girl was the only other constant in her life besides Brittany. Well, the rest of the wedding party was quickly wiggling their little asses into her heart too, but she would most likely deny that on most days.

"I love her," Santana sniffled in Quinn's shoulder. The blonde girl gently picked up Santana's head, holding it in her hands.

"I know you do. Now go out there and show everyone here just how much you love her," Quinn encouraged. Santana gave her a dirty grin.

"You mean have sex with her?" she asked, pretending to be sweetly ignorant. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"I can't hit you because it's your wedding. But I can with words," Quinn threatened. "Now, Santana Maria Lopez, you'd better get your pretend-ghetto ass out there and marry the love of your life before I send you stumbling in there with a black eye."

Santana swallowed and grinned all the more. She knew Quinn would never actually have to get to that point, but she found the threat sweet regardless. She always found Quinn's threats sweet these days. Threats were her poetry, and Quinn had learned well.

"That's right, I've got one damn fine woman out there waiting to make me the happiest woman alive," Santana affirmed confidently. "Don't even start to tease me about going soft, because I get that right today. It's my wedding, bitch."

Quinn just laughed and opened the door to the chapel. Santana took a deep breath and took the first step. It was all about the first step. That first step had been admitting she was in love with Brittany, and even though she'd taken some steps backwards at some points in their relationship, she'd never stopped moving.

* * *

When Brittany saw Santana walking down the aisle toward her, her face split into a smile that she wasn't sure she could ever get rid of. Santana could sometimes act hard to other people, but Brittany had always seen right through that as an act. She had always been able to see the softer side of Santana, and she felt extremely lucky for that. Santana had admitted to being a dolphin just like her when they were in high school, and even though they didn't get to swim off together forever back then, they were getting that chance now.

Santana was her everything, and Brittany wanted nothing more.

* * *

**About a week later…**

Quinn was drawing lazy circles on Rachel's wrist as they laid in bed completely naked with one another. When they stayed naked it wasn't just a lack of clothes- it was symbolic of their lack of barriers with one another. Rachel had actually been the one to suggest it the first time, that they do it as a reminder for Quinn that Rachel was always going to be completely open with her and that Quinn could do the same.

"When we get married, can we do it on the beach?" Quinn asked aloud though she had meant to keep the thought in her head. Marriage was on her brain since Brittany and Santana's wedding a week ago and the fact that the two were currently in Sea World for their honeymoon. She blamed their naked time without any boundaries of anytime for starting her on stream on consciousness.

Rachel rolled onto her side to look at Quinn better. "_When_ we get married? I haven't heard a proposal come out of your mouth yet, Miss Presumptuous," Rachel teased with a smile. It was true- the two of them had alluded to spending the rest of their lives together, but neither one had specifically mentioned marriage before.

"Somehow I get the feeling that when I propose you're going to say yes," Quinn teased back. Rachel gave her a haughty look.

"Only if you pick the perfect time and place. If you fail to surprise me, I'm going to have to ask you to redo it," Rachel said with a sort of shrug… as best a shrug as she could give while lying on her side.

Quinn rolled over on top of Rachel to pin her down, letting her blonde hair fall into Rachel's face. The brunette stared up at her with a gaze that made Quinn bite her lip and feel hot in the face. She had just wanted to gain Rachel's full attention, but she _was_ naked, after all. She couldn't blame her girlfriend for getting turned on.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, I promise you it will be the best proposal of my life," Quinn said with a smirk. Rachel licked her lips and her eyes darkened. Quinn knew that as much as Rachel liked being in control in just about every aspect of her life, she actually found Quinn being assertive in the bedroom to be insanely hot. Quinn used it to advantage.

"I changed my mind. You could propose right now and I wouldn't be able to say no. Can we get married naked?" Rachel suggested childishly. Quinn giggled. No one else was able to make her giggle like Rachel.

"No, because then everyone else in attendance would me staring at me naked," Quinn pointed out. Rachel looked horrified.

"No, most certainly not. I'm the only one who gets to see you naked," Rachel contradicted her previous statement. Quinn just shook her head, enjoying the way the gesture made her hair tickle Rachel's nose because the singer's nose would scrunch up at the sensation.

Quinn's smile faded but not because she wasn't happy. She was just thinking. She had a tendency to get her head stuck in the clouds, and now was just one of those moments. Fortunately, having a gorgeous and aroused brunette under her grabbed her attention back pretty quickly.

"We've gone through a lot of dark times, but I would do it all again to end up right here," Quinn said seriously. Rachel smiled softly up at her, brushing some of Quinn's hair out of her face.

"On top of me while we're naked?" Rachel teased lightly. Quinn shook her head again, relishing in the cute nose scrunching.

"No. With you, wherever that might be," Quinn replied. Rachel let out a long drawn-out sigh with a dazed smile. She then finally addressed Quinn's statement for real.

"They say that the darkest times come right before the dawn, that the longest shadows are cast from the brightest of lights. If that's true… then we've made one hell of a light together."

Quinn smiled, because Rachel was right. They had certainly made one hell of a light together.

**A/N: That's it, guys, we made it. I experimented with having Santana, Brittany, and Quinn's perspectives in this instead of Rachel's like the rest of the story. And this has the explanation for the title in it. Well, so did the previous one, but this one brings closure to the title.**

**I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story as well as alerting and favoriting it. It means more to me than you'll probably ever understand. Writing has been my oldest passion besides music, and I thrive on feedback. Thank you so much.**

**As I've mentioned a few times, I will be posting a new Faberry story called "Hunger Within" very shortly (today or tomorrow). I hope you all give it a shot!**

**This story has been very special to me and I've spent a good amount of time planning it and making sure the characters were portrayed exactly as I wanted them to be. I hope you all enjoyed this. It's been one hell of a ride in some ways. I started this before starting college, so a lot has changed for me as a person.**

**One last time, thank you!**


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